I don’t have any idea of what’s going on.
The last time I’ve heard of people is that they’ve moved on.
I filled up all the spaces they’ve left vacant;

A reminiscent of company left to replay scenes
in the dryness of old places where such small
events happened.

Here stands my greatest enemy.

He reigns from far distant places and secret
undesired corners of the mind,
he serves as a companion to many,
can get a grasp of many heads in just one heavy
lash of isolation translated in thousand resonating languages;
an anthem whose choir wears nothing but electronic
employment pages on their heads
in this dangerous time of ours;
the fair opposite equivalent of rendered services in the day
by limbs, nerves, anxiety and mind laying rest in the night,
waiting for the weekend or perhaps waiting for an out,
a pause and maybe a moment of silence or peace:

Loneliness.

I never mind your presence.

You never were a good translator,
if anything,

you’re a traitor.