Hollow walls clank with plastic loneliness
Cascading upon non-existent ears
Cacophony of mirrored similitude
Quickly faded into oblivion

A question breathes: Who hears me?
Or am I just an echo?
What tenderness will tender to me
The sweet embrace of difference?

And then it comes: life’s vain promise
To flaunt and flail with ecstatic groaning
Only to taunt and cheapen and ruin
That piece of me meant for an “other.”

Held tight in Styrofoam more silenced than before
I see where independence leaves me:
Wishing for a different echo
That blissful, so sweet company.