These clothes I wear, strained from toil,
Devaluate as I sit here, just like myself,
My features suddenly disorientate,
Morphing into something I do not recognise.
My eyes are two cesspits, their shine mocks me as I stare,
My nose protudes outwards,
Why? I have not told any lies.
My mouth opens spontaneously,
Allowing me a risqué look at my rapidly degenerating teeth,
Like my jealousy, they are green and acrid,
The very essence of desertion.
For I am completely alone,
Miserably, abjectly grovelling in my own solitude,
I dwell in my disquiet,
And it has rejected me,
Just like the people I once knew.
Must I forever endure the omniscient silence?
The bellow of nothingness insults my ears,
Perforating my defences, leaving me shuddering with both fear and anger,
Laughing at my impotency.
I live this dystopia everyday,
Each passing day is a wasted opportunity,
A figment of what I could have been,
Isolation is my only ally,
As I am compelled to be alone.
Always.
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