you do not smile in portraits
because you are terrified
of your own unwavering gaze
staring
back at you;

the blemished sentiment of
happiness younger than the spark of noon diminished into an infinite pail
of abyss filled to the brim with
unforgiving despair clanking like
clumsy church bells.

you are reminded that you are
nothing but a vessel,
prevaricating questions that have etched long enough onto your skin,
emaciating the fragments
of existence that you
desperately clung onto.

you are reminded of the time a boy
whispered he loved you as if he meant it but the glaring reflection of your dismal eyes crawl on your back,
drowning the shrieks in an
ocean of happiness you cannot
indulge yourself in.

a storm of consternation submerged
from the empty hallways
of vintage photographs.

sans hope;
sans love;
sans everything.