I'm sharing my low points....

I sit with reserve
I sit with envy
I sit with longing
I sit holding my own hand
(you should be there)
and I imagine your hand
on my back
and your words of reassurance
whispering in my ear
(you should be there)
When, infact, all I hear
is the constant ringing
of quiet.
I try to sense the shell,
I have to create,
to feel the security
stability
reassurance
that I (have to) give myself.