You do not hear me. I can speak the same words, listen and give the same advice, tell the same joke, and you do not react the same way— the words are wrong the advice is unsound the jokes aren’t funny, when they come from my lips. Because the words are always sweeter from those who don’t care to whom they are speaking them. See me. Speak to me. Not only when you’re upset. Not only when there are no “better” options. Not only when you need my strength. Come to me happy. Come to me when I grieve. Come to me when you need nothing. You don’t genuinely see, hear, or speak to me, because I am always there to listen, I am dependable as the cycles of the sun, so there’s no need to assure yourself, that I will rise and fall as expected. No need to flatter or mollify me. I am barely holding together my own skin someday I will fail to rise to hold you.