Lately the stories heave
on the inside of my skin
so I turn off the radio
feeling guilty for not listening
to what others have to live
but the radio stays off
and there is dinner to make
which we eat
with our feet sticking
off the couch
while your dad sings Peace Train
and nobody notices
when I cry a little
staring back
at the blank face of the moon
wondering if it ever asks
why we are not them
why we got wrapped
in this safe little life.