stuffed with collected life.
So many were labeled mine or his,
with little set aside as ours.
I sat sorting through
the years of what we were
and cried for what we never became.
Silence created separate islands
where both of us prayed for rescue,
but neither asked for help.
Deaf from the blare of the unspoken,
we lived in a house that rarely felt like a home.
©Susie Clevenger 2013