And dead eyed feel no more?
Is this what the glass faced portent meant?
My face reflected in the dark tram window.
Devoid of any life at all.
No prettiness, no beauty, just the pristine china of the end of a day of feeling nothing, nothing at all.
Only the stale red of another morning
Of breakfast and arguments with Danny
Only the filmy light seeping through the curtains
That I shut and cannot open.
The grim lessons
Through a cracked phone screen
Hair a tangled mess
The same dark coat I have worn
For years around this town
The same figure
Running down the hill
Outside I look alive
My cheeks are flushed
Although my eyes have purple shadows beneath them
But inside the same thoughts are trailing through an empty room.
Round and round
I feel nothing
I have felt nothing these past 5 years.
— The End —