Children don't understand, when things aren't given. The single parent struggling to provide; how they sacrifice themselves, by sweeping their dreams and goals under the table, just to bring bread and beans on the table.

Sometimes when I think, most times, it's desire to have you back. But then, I try not to think.

I kiss her ghost, and sleep with the dust on her photograph, next to my bedside.

Nothing is in the middle of somewhere, surrounded by everything, where everyone is someplace, and still lacking the someone, I need most.