Passing Glances //:: In transit

::A poem. Copyright mine.::

Say
Words hung unspoken on lips
Both times lingering
Both in transit.
Archetypal semblances
Of a misguided intiative
Searchingly looking --
For its been said
Eyes are like windows
But I’ve tried
I’m tired of seeing nothing
Except my own;
Reflection in a distressed mind
Round, black
Dread
The day after tomorrow
It brings a reality
Of a fragmented notion repressed.
Sooner than that
The day comes
When
We pass each other;
Both pretending
Eyes that do not see,
Ears that do not hear
For now let it be
Something that never existed
Delete the snapshots
Hide the words
The soundless brushing under the carpet
Of what might have been.
The temporary alignment
Of two, in transit
Passing glances that mean anything but.
And so, I walk on
Because I have nothing to say.
Because the fragility of my emotions
Crashes louder than a piercing scream
On the parquet floor
Beneath
The window of my soul.