"You have old eyes
Eyes older than twenty two, simply based upon
the depth of those crow's feet criss crossed around your eyes;"
You old alien soul, how you found me I'll never know

I'm left open and sagging
Resting raw against the the thump of your clean living heart
Still reeling I can't move up or down or left or right
Stuck in a bottomless purgatory that just seems to become more grey
Each of your eyelashes etched into my palms
Every stretch of skin looped like a thread into my memory
Clogging my mind until I'm trapped in your image
I sink into the pollution of your shadow
I can't swim to cleaner tides.

I'm playing your game,
Trying my best,
Going through the process just like all the rest.
I went to my therapy,
I go once every two weeks,
I tell her my problems;
She tells me I overthink.
I am a machine, though my gears may be rusty,
I still cannot make my frenzied brain stop its running.
I tell her I'm trapped, I say I'm alone.
Our time runs out and again I'm isolated at home.
This neighborhood sleeps but my insomnia taunts me.
It's dangerous, being the only living thing around suburbia's zombies.
Handfuls of pills,
Stress ***** and writing.
I'm playing your game but it's hard to keep fighting.