These days I find myself
as hollow as a dead tree.
Little emotion concurs with
my surroundings.
Weights latch onto my eyelids,
and refuse to subside.
Rarely do I feel a smile
creep upon my lips
anymore.
Talking has become a chore
that I am beginning to ignore.
The bounce in my step
is slowly fading
as the days pass.
Strings of conversation are now
foreign to my uncaring ears.
My distance is noticeably
increasing, and escaping
its former mask.
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 9:53 PM UTC
These days I find myself
as hollow as a dead tree.
Little emotion concurs with
my surroundings.
Weights latch onto my eyelids,
and refuse to subside.
Rarely do I feel a smile
creep upon my lips
anymore.
Talking has become a chore
that I am beginning to ignore.
The bounce in my step
is slowly fading
as the days pass.
Strings of conversation are now
foreign to my uncaring ears.
My distance is noticeably
increasing, and escaping
its former mask.