heart sinking slowly
a deflated balloon
as the world around me
turns slightly
but I thought perhaps
there are others
like myself;
suspended, inanimate
facing failures while
whistling showground tunes
and yet
it is a delusion:
through rose-tinted glasses,
I wanted to perceive others
--and belong, encapsulated,
in a bubble with other warm hearts.
honestly,
the world hasn't stopped;
it doesn't turn for anyone
but me.