I look in the mirror.
I appear fine.
Nothing in the expression that hints
at how I feel.

It's eerie, unnatural.
No window to the soul.
Or is it that very soul
that leaves no expression?

There is no place for this.
No safe haven to whisper,
or hide a tear in
for what I've lost.

I know, I can feel
that it's not in my chest.
On a quest of it's own.
But here, my mind knows.

It will fail.
It is unwanted, unneeded.
It wanders the void,
and leaves a void behind it.

My shovel is broken.
Or my arms are too tired.
I close my eyes and feel
that deep dark hole.

What good are these eyes
when all I wish to see
is beyond my grasp.
That smile turned to me.

But I cannot, will not
chase, what chooses to run.
And there are no kisses for tears,
that I cannot shed...