It was her, was everything around her, and everything within. No place to rest, no place to live no place to find love that she could trust
and in her cage she watched the world turn
and didn’t care because it didn’t matter because she didn’t care-
The love thrown at her feet forgotten and the heart she used to have left in a box somewhere in her past-
it was never locked but it doesn’t have to be
She couldn’t find the box even if she wanted to open it, even if she remembered what it is she’s lost.
there’s this issue of happiness. Is she happy is she sad, is she mad at the world and what she has become
You stare into her eyes and they’re blue and they’re brown and they’re every color you could think of but there’s nothing there
Nothing left to look at, nothing left because it's been trickling out from her eyes long before she could see before she could hear, or even begin to comprehend everything that’s happening around her, and us,
and it’s something that started a long time ago, something she can’t stop, none of us can stop it, not alone
If she could bring herself to care maybe it’d be different. Maybe she’d hold out her hand, take yours, take mine, and lead us somewhere that we can’t even imagine.
Something you haven’t thought of because you don’t care, and I don’t care, and it doesn’t matter. But it does. But you don’t. And she doesn’t
If you look she’s still sitting there, watching the world burn and covering her empty eyes with her hands, because if she did care, she knows she couldn’t take it.
Buried somewhere in those hollow eyes there’s a person, and that person is lost, and will be lost, just like the rest of us.
Unless someone cares, and takes our hands, and helps us drag ourselves out of our holes, our cages and our empty shells
And maybe then she’ll care. Maybe we’ll care. Maybe things will change, because that’s what things do. I can’t imagine it, and I don’t care to either.
But maybe you should.