When you can’t anymore

The sadness is returning again like an old hag that never really died–just took a long(er) nap.

I choke back the words I wish I could say without infuriating you. I’m just trying to help, I say, sitting awkwardly next to you–nearly silent–while you look most stoic.

I can see it in your eyes–I’m no longer the apple. There is no apple.

This was fruitless.

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