At the end of
Long
Hard
Stays,
I feel little
But the apathy
That sails me past honeyed seas
Through treacherous rocks.

But is there worth
In saying little,
In giggling
As if I never grew up,
As if I had never seen these things?

Would others say
'I have seen it too?'
Would others tell
The faces they find in the night
To chase some other ****** and turner?

Would others say
'We don't care,
But for the things we know in each other,
For the silences we share, while knowing
Little greed?'

I wouldn't know,
I'm too scared to ask
It doesn't feel natural.
Nothing does
Anymore.