Small Talk by Emily

Silver slick pen nib hovers on the page,

I’ve gotta write something, we’ve gotta engage,

I want to be friends but the words won’t come,

I’m writing down lyrics of some half-forgotten song,

‘How’re you? How’s life? Do you want to hang out?’

It’s not a conversation, words still pour out my mouth,

Niceties, politities, empty words of nothing,

Each word that I type’s another nail in my coffin,

Coffin of words, unseen people and places,

I’m talking to you but I can’t see your faces…

[social_warfare]

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