Dark Days

Down the stairs and into the kitchen

A black bear appears suddenly, making coffee in my kitchen

Using my blue travel mug with the broken lid

I can’t speak to him

And he doesn’t look at me.

He’s here all day, all week, sometimes longer

In the bath, on the sofa, next to me in bed

I can’t cuddle him

And he doesn’t want to be touched.

Home from work and the bear is here

Staring at the TV and then at the phone

Back and forth he glares with glazed, shiny eyes

I can’t hear what he’s saying

And he doesn’t speak to me.

I tell the bear I love him and I’m here whenever he needs me

I say the right things, I’ve been told how to help

I’m in the background

Its midnight and he starts the car

I don’t know where he is going

He doesn’t look back.

He doesn’t kiss me.

I can’t bear the bear

And he can’t either.