"Smile."
You say as you walk in the room,
seating yourself in the armchair next to me.
You barely look up before repeating yourself:
"Smile."
You haven't yet noticed that my eyes are holding strong,
Like a river trying not to burst its banks
after a heavy storm.
You're still sitting silently and the room is
empty.
Finally, you look up and meet my eyes for the
first time in weeks.
I think you were going to tell me to smile again,
but then you realised why I'm unhappy.
And sometimes I forget that you can't simply read my mind.
And sometimes I forget that I need to talk to you.

And sometimes the river does burst its banks,
drowning whole towns and villages with no quick way to rebuild what has been lost.