Truly Happy
Sometimes, you aren't just that. Sometimes, you are so much more than a tool, an instrument, a truly hopeless person. And I want to tell you, but I don't know how. I never had love. From family, from peers, from friends. You don't remember love after it betrayed you. But I think we find it sometimes though not as lovers do. Not as brothers do. Not as parents and children do either. When you smile and you're truly happy. When you let your hair down just for fun. When you work so hard and flop down before you reach your bed. When you lie in an exhausted sleep with a faint hint of a triumphant grin twitching at the corners of your mouth. I can't express myself as you do. But sometimes I watch your eyes and I see what you saw. We are the same. At least in the eyes. And when you look back and beam at having caught me watching, and we look at each other for a few moments, without blood fresh on our hands, or the shadow of pursuit hovering over us, or the plan clouding our minds. Then, you are not a servant and I am not a master. We are equals. And we are friends. And I'm sorry I chained you
