the space behind her eyes

It was her, was everything around her, and everything within.

No place to rest, no place to live. No place to find love that she could trust

and in this cage she watches the world turn

and didn't care because it didn't matter because she didn't care.

The love thrown at her feet forgotten and the heart she used to own left in a box somewhere in the past.

it was never locked but it didn't have to be.

She couldn't find the box even if she wanted to open it, even if she remembered what it was she has lost. 

is she happy, is she sad, is she mad at the world and at what she has become?

no-

If you stare into her eyes they are the sea and they are coals, they are every color you could think of but there's nothing there.

Nothing left to look at, nothing there

because it has been trickling from her eyes long before she could see, before she could hear, or even begin to comprehend everything that's happening around her and us

and it's something that started long ago, something she can't stop, none of us can stop it,

not alone.

Never alone.

If she could bring herself to care perhaps it would be different. Maybe she'd hold out her hand and take yours, take mine, and lead us somewhere that we can't even imagine. Something you haven't thought of because you don't care, and I don't care, and it doesn't matter.

But it does. But you don't. And she doesn't.

If you look she's still sitting there, watching the world burn and covering her empty eyes with her hands, because if she did care she knows she could not bear it.

Buried somewhere in those hollow eyes there is a person, and that person is lost, and will be lost, just like the rest of us.

Unless someone else cares and take our hands and opens our cages and left-unlocked boxes.

And maybe then she'll care. Maybe we'll care. Maybe things will change, because that is what things do. She can't imagine it, and I don't care to either.

But maybe you should.

Because I

don't

09052013