This House is a Vault
by Monica Hoppen
Like a vacant house
I sit before you
Dark windows reflect but the blueness of the sky
Doors remained locked, as you fumble for the keys
Soo many keys
Soo many doors
Manuals all upon the floor
I can hear your heartbeat
Empty is my stare
Empty my thoughts
I lose eye contact
Your hand slowly places the ballpoint of your pen gently on your notebook
(A nervous sign)
You look up as if you have found composure
I can hear your heartbeat louder
At this point I make a choice based on your response
Do I become the psychologist, and play with my food?
Do I feel an emotion believed to be known as empathy?
This answer is not written in a manual
You are far too weak for me
I feel an emotion, but it is not empathy
I feel loathing
A loathing for a system that has failed you and I
This House Is a Vault
Published on the Writory Wall.