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Disconnection dissects her dawdling brain; 
Isolated from the world around her she stands alone, 
A solitary tear bejeweling her translucent skin
She doesn’t reach up to brush it away
Instead she smiles, sadly, at the faces around her 
At the eddying current of humanity which never quite touches…
Never quite tugs her into their violent embrace
And all the while she is growing more and more delusional
Masking her suffering by pretending she can’t see it 
By sticking her fingers in her ears and humming a childhood melody 
When she strolls through town she feigns ignorance, 
Feigns oblivion to the loneliness that marks her – 
That stands out on her creamy brow like a bloodied brand 
She is all alone and no one knows her anymore…
Oh sure, curious stares sometimes flick her way, 
But they are hollow fragments of the love that used to be 
Of the awe that used to pulse through her delicate figure 
Once, she was adored; was sainted
But now her pedestal is cracked and moss-grown 
And she, poor girl, is bloated by isolation; by her solitary state 
By the bubble that envelops her in darkness and dreams…
It is a mournful existence she suffers now – 
Pride and cowardice have sequestered her in a tall dark tower 
In a room with no stairs and no doors with locks to break 
Lost in dreams of what could have been, she sighs, 
And raises a glass of poisoned wine to her lips; 
She just can’t take it anymore…

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