Disconnected

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…