ennui

This is a moment in time
A concreteness intensely felt
By all of those concerned
Being, in this particular case
Primarily myself
Along with two small furry cats.

And in this moment of time
Despite the undying affections
Of the aforementioned beasts
I feel...
I feel essentially nothing
The same lack of specificity
That I have felt increasingly
Or maybe that I have simply
Grown less content to live inside
As those around me escape it
At an alarming rate.

So what to do? The usual infusion
Of someone else's life
Through a song or a film
Seems to be the most likely candidate
To sweeten my bitter soul
But admittedly only a temporary fix
For a larger, more systemic problem
Namely, loneliness, a notable
Lack of color, the present a tableau
Of black and white, monochrome
Like my memories, with a few
Notable bursts of firework hues
At specific points along that timeline
Points which I have carefully enshrined
And which I revisit with an alarming
Regularity.

And so the question still remains
After the last frame has faded
Of these brief Technicolor respites
On a screen or in my mind's eye
What to do? So I go to work
And I keep very busy, and I hope
That with enough time (and enough
Green money, because that is a color,
Isn't it?) I will stop noticing these moments
And maybe if I stop noticing them
That will be the same as actually
Making them go away, the same as
Filling the empty spaces with something
Substantive, because they aren't real
Things, are they, they only exist
In my mind, so if they just stop existing
There, then they will exist nowhere
Which is to say they won't exist at all
But in the end this charade won't work
Because Nowhere is a place, the very place
In which I find myself waiting, a vast
Waiting Room, filled with the ghosts
Of everyone I have ever liked or hated
Or Loved, but simultaneously devoid,
Entirely unlike all of my Somewheres
Which were (and I hope will be)
Very full indeed.

And that was a very long stanza, wasn't it?
But only equivalent to that same sense
Of waiting, of wading, through time's
Throngs, that I hope I have just made you
Understand. So please know, my friend,
That I don't want you to feel sorry for me
And I don't take compliments very well either
But if you would just listen, then maybe
I would feel better just having told Somebody.