I walk this pace

I walk this pace,
more a shuffle step
then, a tap, tap, tap.
My knees bear witness
to the leverage of my hips
as I manage my shifting viewpoints.

I imagine my smile
would spark more conversations
if it were just a smidge
less crooked
and more bright.
But the dutiful day
full of questioning faces
and fake white smiles
gives way eventually
to another missing you night.

There is no easy entry
into the diary of my heart.
Wordless pages
reveal less
an empty day,
and more a shout of sadness
that cannot find voice
on a page that cannot understand
the weight of this pen in my hand.

I am not broken
or lonely.
I am missing specifics.