You walk by, but you don't see me. All you see is the skeleton of lost potential that you once saw in me. I've gotten rid of all my hopes and fears and everything that I believed in.

I have given up.

I don't know what you ever saw in me. Maybe it was the sea in my sad blue eyes, the fight in the will I once had, the depth of my laugh, my compassion for humanity, my faith in beings.

That's all gone now.

The character that filled me from head to toe now lies shattered in the barren waste lands of your love. As the wind rattles my rib cage, I can almost remember the warmth it once filled me with.

Almost.

You hear the rattle, like hollow wooden wind chimes in an Oregon October. But you keep walking, carrying a smirk in your pocket for when no one is watching.