loveless
von Ilana
Monday morning, 8 am
sitting at the kitchen table,
having cereal with sour milk.
I'm all alone in this room
in myself,
cause you've left
without even leaving the room.
And the coffee is cold
and the bread is old,
but you're chewing silently
behind invisible walls.
And you ask me "What's the matter"
but I can't but hide my tears
behind my hands,
to notice I'm beyond tears.
Almost beyond fear,
for there's nothing
you don't already know