Both of the days when we were
gone are in my head.
We were raised by an incompetent bully.

Perhaps that is redundant.
Perhaps he was incompetent at being a bully
so that means he wasn’t that bad
after all.

But then, we were young
and together
and that was all that mattered
to us.

We were alone, together
wild eyed, barefoot
screaming, and mute.
But we were happy
because we didn’t know enough
to know we should be miserable.

Perhaps that is the secret.
Don’t compare.