Holding on

again I look down the endless listings of jobs, of cities, of  opportunities.

to stay here is the dream but the reality is food on the table

rent paid.

but who would want us,

they want us here but affording this life and being wanted are separate.

all of this makes me so very tired and sleepless,

I miss my life before, before the stress before the empty bank account,

back when there were jobs to have and apartments to live in.

now is just struggle,

one to give Alder a loving life

one to find ways of staying

one of finding where to go

one of finding time to love.

The days still exist,

we eat meals, make beds, play trains.

we are not sustainable in this way, our hearts and minds are bruised

frustration creeps from us into our words into our inaction and our attempts.

today was good between us, most days are; or at least indifferent

it is this situation we have that hurts us.

We joke that there is a place for us somewhere… we just don’t know where it is.