The Problem
It’s you
Thinking there is nothing wrong
Believing you
And only you
To be in the right
Telling us we’re wrong
As we look amongst each other
Wondering where your heart has gone
It’s us
Saying nothing
Hoping this is just a phase
Praying you’ll start living again
Hiding in the corners of a room
You fill with your presence
Trying not to get burned
On the fringes or to ash
It’s you
Screaming at us for the wrongs
You refuse to pin on yourself
Hurting us because you are in pain
And thus so to must we be
You think this is the right way
The only way
Because you say so
It’s us
Not telling you anything is wrong
Smiling at you from across the room
Laughing at your jokes
Pretending we’re okay
Walking on our tiptoes
In case we awaken the sleeping fury
Of all of our problems
My Life is a Notebook 
…sometimes I read your blog and have a burning need to give you a hug.
Seconded, seriously. 😦
Psh, you two, it’s cool. Nothing even HAPPENED today. I just decided to write a poem and wrote that.
Nonsense, I think you’re always in need of a hug.