People say this world is dark.
Well, so is the sky.
Little acts do wonders,
Just look at the stars.
I feel like I’m stuck in time.
My feet, cemented to the ground where I stand.
People soar by me on both sides.
All around me, yet nowhere near me.
They successfully string together passionate ideas, delicate drapery, and sky-high goals to form a shell of utter perfection, to those who observe from the outside.
But here I stand, with anger.
An anger so strong, it is removing every part of me until I am too tired to feel anything at all.
This emptiness acts as my superintendence.
Forcing me to laugh loudly at overused jokes,
and widen my tightly shut lips into a smile at compliments, spoken by the peers that play the part of my closest companions.
But these words, once soaked up, fall deep down the hollow hallways of what is left of me.
Welcomed by nothing but a disagreeing voice, behind the quiet thank you that escapes from this empty shell.
My words are followed with an echo.
Not the magnificent kind.
Not the kind of echo you hear when you reach the top of a tall mountain – that reiteration of your accomplished hollers.
It’s waking up moments before your alarm sounds, or tossing and turning to the quiet that surrounds you at 3am.
It’s the silence that answers you when you finish a voicemail, or the sneeze that was left without a “bless you”.
It’s almost sad.
Not lonely in the sense of being abandoned or misunderstood.
The feeling of literal loneliness.
Some only feel it in whiffs.
A temporary rush.
Something people only notice for a second, if even at all.
But the constant – the continuous state of that silence – causes it to become a feeling.
That feeling that no one’s there.
No one’s listening.
**Just me and my echo.
— The End —