Do you see me?
Am I here?
I don’t wear it on my sleeve.
I’ve garbled it up so tight,
wrinkled, torn in places,
Unrecognizable.
I’ve saved it,
tucked it away.
In the dark,
I pull it out.
No one wants to see.
I don’t have to ask.
I don’t have to guess.
I know,
From that hidden look in your eye,
You’re better than me.
I’d pick from your Apple tree.
Take what is yours,
But I couldn’t keep it.
When too much was clear
I’d find a way to disappear.
DoRee MelNic 