self-isolation
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Through the time I traverse, moment to moment, memory to memory.
The riches on the way, I always grab a fistful.
One by one they slip away as it is in their nature.
Little remorse is felt since they are but ephemeral.
I had always believed that I had a black hole
In the place of my soul
I was always so numb and cold
Or that was what I was always told
Rarely did I ever crack a smile
Nor did I get easily riled
I was on my computer talking to some chick I barely knew. I can't remember the conversation, but it was a nice chat. She was surprisingly friendly.
