Regard
You see,
attention does not
equal love, but
my brain just can't
seem to get that.
When I'm not
what's in your mouth
or hands or eyes,
I rot.
I count up
the seconds it takes
for a notification
to appear on the
phone screen,
and every second more
is a louder scream.
A simple smile from
the stranger across the hall
can save the day,
but when the one
next to me walks
away,
my legs are
quicksand.
My lungs fill
with the sand water mixture.
You're sitting right
across from me,
but I'm convinced
death's touch is
closer
to me
than you
ever have been.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: