Thought

Days go by without thinking about it. Thinking about anything. And when you finally do, it's fleeting, as though a chance long glance at those thoughts will break the dirty steel walls of you conscious. In all truth, that's a likely possibility.

You sit there in you brick-house hell and turn the television on again. Silence is the enemy. Silence is the voice of things that can't be talked about, dreamed about, thought about. The way your eyes catch in the flickering light is ironic; mocking the glassy, vacant way you've tuned out everything around you. But no one's ever noticed.

You don't feel. You don't see. Experiencing things briefly, memories and wishes flitting across your mind like vipers and just as hard to catch. Pin down. And when a moment lingers longer than you'd like, you distract yourself by doing, doing, doing. Anything. Anything to quieten the thoughts.

Hush little baby. You don't think a word. Lonely, tired, your heart clenches through the gaping toothy laughter you throw towards the television set. You are all alone, but you still put on an act.