The Quiet

[profound_moment]

Isn't it strange how you can be sitting right next to someone
and yet feel so entirely alone?
Like how I sit next to you, you driving my car,
not making a sound,
and I,
I want to scream.
I want to pound the barrier in my mind
with open palms and just scream until you
look at me.
Look at me!
With brown eyes full of understanding
and desire
for me.
Have I really become so cold to touch that
holding me is just a little more than you
can manage?
Or a little more than I can ask for?
Here I sit, claustrophobic, and in my own
glass box, entirely hollow...
and yet too full of damned pride
to scream.