My heart is silent no death but emptiness.
f
No feelings.
No happiness.
No sorrow.
No nothing.
How did I get this way?
What brought on my self lonesomeness?
Voices sound all over.
I hear nothing.
I should feel hastened by a preset pace, but I freeze.
I cannot hurry.
Like quick sand has taken hold, and will not let go.
Every person moves with unending energy.
Why?
When I have none.
Slowed by so many things.
I cannot decide.
What is real?
The blurs of what they used to be talk around me;
living their lives as mine stops.
How so I do stop it?
Do I rise from the depths?
Only a temporary solution.
It never lasts.
All of them on the outside looking in on me like microscope.
They ask, “Are you ok?”
What do I say, “No I haven’t felt anything for weeks and I don’t
know why, but hey lets hang out on Saturday”
I doubt that would satisfy their prying eyes.
It would only wet their appetites to my misery if that is its
proper name.
Everyday the same route
Get up, go to school, go to work,
Go home.
I’m the puppet and my life is my master.
How do I escape it?
Death? Too dramatic
Run away? I’m not brave enough
I have no escape, just regret.
Each day will pass and my life will go with it.
I am Sisyphus with no roll time.
No time for me as I chase my rock.
But the worst is yet to come, my life has been short.
I am young.
I still have time.
I dread the time before I see the light.
As I pray for salvation or damnation, anything to end this
unfeeling plight.
Something save me before I die
If I live on my puppet strings
I want to die released from
my life’s unrelenting master.
***
***
Monica Lugo, is a junior Creative Writing major at the University of
Evansville.
