Why are you here?

She looks in the window
on her irregular schedule
sees dinner on the table
and dishes in the sink
This is the life he has
He seems mostly well
perhaps a hint of ragged black
around his edges
like a child's attempt at eyeliner
Can she see him as he
strangles one of his many desires
in the small and defenseless
morning hours
He does it for his own good
and the good of the company
he keeps