Don’t feel special when there’s a start
of a conversation in a screen
She will either give one word to part
or leave you with a hopeless “seen”

Don’t feel special when you meet an eye
With the same black pupils so wide
For those few seconds are a lie
Even though they seem to confide

Don’t feel special when her lips open
to utter words or show a smile
Even when she sounds outspoken
It will only last for a while

Don’t feel special when she lends you
the music that causes her to groove
Everyone does that; nothing new
She only wants you to approve

Don’t feel special when you see ink
that dances around your forearm
It only takes your eyes to blink
to see that it is just her charm

Don’t feel special when you find yourself
with the same crowd she frequents to
Like a book just added to her shelf
You are but pushed through and piled onto

Don’t feel special when you get as close
as two bushes appearing as one
For when you feel lone and need her the most,
She will be there with her sympathy gone


Serenity Exists in Silent Places

“Do you like the darkness?” I ask.

She takes a sip of her tea in the black. It is the only sound she makes before she whispers, “Yes.”

She says nothing for a second, then a minute, then an hour. Soon, we are engulfed in her darkness.