In the brittle cold and loneliness of my room,I watch as night settles and the string lights are turned off as their brutal glare is too bright for the shadows hiding in the corners of my mind

I’m a wordsmith therefore words never choke in my throat, yet today life seems lost like silence in a tomb; In the mirror,a face I barely recognize stares back,its eyes, hollow gems,the weight of unspoken truths pressing

You, with your sharp smiles,slicing through fragile silence,do you feel the tremors?  A storm brewing in the marrow of our bones?I could scream,but instead, I swallowthe bitter taste of fury,clenching it tight,a fistful of memories

I see your laughter,and wonder if you know the fractures of your heart,the way it beats out of sync,like a clock with no hands,counting down to a reckoning, to the end

Night falls again and silently yet faint, a whisper of despair lingers in our ears , everything we’ve buried

You and I are mere marionettes tangled in string ,where madness is the only truth we dare not speak; yes others gossip, others expect of us what they themselves will not give, we are demanded to be better but they get away with murder

we hate ourself for allowing others to get too close and the emptiness is death