Ache

... This morning the eyes were brimming, unreasonably. Everyday rituals should categorically be subconscious, or become so over time. Like a breath, or sudden holding of it. It is so very wasteful to be downhearted over unavoidable prerequisites to life. But strangely, it aches every time. So much so you feel like crouching up silent and alone at some grey amorphous corner of life and shut yourself out from every blasted saneness. How do I leave my little baby helplessly whimpering on that thick black mattress, with dumb toys, ten other babies and plastic-faced carers? Leave her alone to deal with this strangely frigid and synthetic world; Leave our selves, hers and mine, alone every day... Tomorrow morning these eyes will again be brimming. Silently. Softly. Secretly. And Unreasonably. Let me say this once to you, in our sacred seclusion: I am sorry Heeya ~ ~ ~