Angel Tears

She stands on my desk, watching over my hands at work.  They are sometimes shaky, but at this moment not, she doesnt much care.  She watches lovingly as a guardian angel does, without judgement and she notes the tears on my unhappy face.  She should have warned me against the loss I feel, even now, without having had anything to lose this time.  The audience was sufficient, in that at least I knew somehow, somewhere, I was being read by someone who used to care about me. 

So like a whisp of a cloud through my fingers, he left and is gone.  I am left feeling curiously bereft without having had anything to hold on to.  I feel at times like this, bitterly sad over the wreck of  my life.  I am angry and full of self pity that I was handed something I never wanted.  I made the choices, true, but the original disease was not mine to take up.