You don't know

You don't know what it costs me
To wake up every day.
To be conscious is to be conscious of,
And a tender heart is easily broken.
By pictures of puppies,
by bluebells in the snow,
by rudeness in line at the grocer.
You don't know what it costs me
To love you, even in the meager way I can
With a love full of need.
You don't know what it costs
To share hurts you cannot hear
or understand.
Sometimes I try to tell you
And you just talk about yourself.
You don't know what it costs me
To get up and go outside
In the blinding sun, surrounded
By the blind people in their blinding colors,
by a million products all the same,
by cars driven indifferently,
by the rustle of the wind in the leaves or dead branches
All of it heartbreaking.
You don't know. How can you?
You're just a person among people.
Your limbs don't ache with sorrow
when you watch the news or
crack an egg or
feed the dog.
You can talk about forest fires
Or climate change
Or species loss
without tears in your eyes, without shouting.
Just a person among people.
You don't know, and how could you?
You don't know, and what would it cost you?
Why should I even try to tell you?
If you knew, could know, you wouldn't thank me.
When you cried because the snow was so bright
it made you joyful and sad.
When every day of Summer felt like the last day of Summer,
Full of melancholy, of days lost.
When you took a nap just
to shut out the pain of being
for a few short minutes.
You don't know what it costs me
to know what it costs me.