I stick my face in, only to find that flames still singe.
Again and again, the whithering of my heart grows thin,
to the point where I loose all senses of what it is to be human.
Not this digital joke of texts and lies behind colons followed by
a closing parentheses.
Emotionless. Disconnection. Growing distance.
The inhumane treaties, the vampiric kisses, all worthless when
it comes to an end.
We'll ignore one another when we share space some place, it happens,
again and again.
The world speaks in foreign rasps when alone,
trapped in thoughts long gone.
Again, again.
