Is that there isn't enough Lexapro to go around. Or, conversely,
the unacceptable number of people who do not consult my advice for living
the harpy that eavesdrops on our lives. Your girlfriend is a spy.
In fairness, the cheaters are th winners.  You and I
are different beasts, you and I are irreducable. The problem with the world goes something like
this: "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece
was full, so very full of her tiny treasures hidden finger deep in the woolly mesh
we hid and watched as she took them out one by one with movements of reverence
and slaughtered them. We listened as she sang "This is the way of the world..."
& we all stopped breathing. This air is
coated with dirt, which can only be explained by describing the function of dirt:
thick with the banging of their glossy hard shells and frantic buzzing
dull with the smack into windows, the desparate wish to penetrate or escape, equally
into a dense vertical multitude.
they scattered and wove themselves into the tangly, clawing underbrush
but over.  And failed.
Success is counted sweetest by those who survive the collapse
of this faulty construct, this self, this pitted cherry.