Blank expressions weigh heavy on me
as I resume my place at the table
for our nightly session of staring.

Once more, we have brought nothing
to nourish ourselves or this failing relationship.
We starve striving to remember the taste of joy.

We used to be so good at this,
I sigh as I lose even more of myself
to your open fields, your cursory foot tap.

We used to dance a little every night,
a thousand steps to keep the heart beating
and many more if we were feeling frisky.

We used to talk and share all our secrets,
everything we were thinking and feeling
in naked unity.

Now we barely have any conversations,
like perfect memories somehow spoiled.
Your eyes trying to look anywhere but at me.

Blinking speaks the most, telling me
it’s my duty to fill this empty space,
to recover the meaning of life.

I am the one responsible
for bringing back the words we once adored.
You will not move on without me.

Except my confidence has been shattered over time
by bullies and bruises to pride and wellbeing.
My fire was stamped out by a world of misfortune. 

How does one find themself when have
nothing interesting they could possibly say more?
I fear no on will listen to what cannot be loved.