Why do my eyes feel like I've just cried,
Why am I so tired,
Why do I value my sleep so much,
Why do I wait for that phone call?

I don't mull like I used to.
Trapping myself,
and bundling until i trip and stumble over the boxes.
No.

It's
a grotesque happiness.
Beautifully distorted,
Set as images,
that you can click from your desktop.

Yet,
on the sullen side,
there's a normal craving
to receive what I expect.
But it doesn't numb me anymore,
not anymore.