“we are having such a great morning;
we laugh so much!”
i am mute
it is something like numb
but there are still feelings and thoughts
unvoiced, unexpressed, but felt
is it just her?
am i part of the morning?
if i am part of a great morning, some of it must be a part of me
maybe it is just that she never does anything like this
these simple pleasure of nice cream, air condition, duvets galore, dress up and make up
or is it me?
that i don’t see any of this
as special?
i smile, i get my mind taken away
a moment here, there
inside the iron weighs and thrusts
a moment here, there
when i can forget the doom
it is a great morning
self diagnosis 