Blank eyes amidst faceless streets

Erased souls is all I see

And the forced idea of clinging to unwanted feelings is all what lures me into staying within the realm of my individuality

Or at least that is what connects me to the place I’ve grown wrongly detached from

A newspaper or a book

The news or her deeming look

The fact that I care less or that I care too much.

The straw stirring through the plastic cup

And the annoyance of a gesture so inconsiderate alongside a fake smile and the endeavours of social courtesy that is destructive in all senses

And my attempt …