Even the mailman knows there won't be a return sent
I can see it in his eyes, and movements.
All servers are blocked, and forwards neglected
They are just superficial anyhow
and the eyes aren't looking my way anymore.
So I turn a cold shoulder, and ice over.
Left writhing within myself
I scream inwards to let go of this.
But no outlets leave me with few options
Why not bury it?
Till it consumes me.
And I am left with what I truly am
Me
