What do I do with
All this surplus

The hollow face,
The hollow heart
Stew in the silence,
Ignoring each other like
Quarrelling lovers -
Days melt into each other
Faces dissolve and
Words turn to dust
I live in a dream -
My bones start to
Rust -

All I know is
The sound of my

It makes no audible
Sound at all,
But it's here.