Apathy

I wrap my fingers around the pen which has lain dormant collecting dust for months on end feeling as if I'm lifting a fifty pound weight straining not just my joints but my brain, its neurons refusing to fire like the broken burner of a gas stove with a malfunctioning igniter fouling the air with noxious fumes as it fails to burst into blue flame a single spark threatening an explosion that will decimate everything I hold dear My lone gift life bestowed upon me I once naively believed would change everything has altered exactly nothing as my words are like whispers in a windstorm to the world, to you whose image I was deluded enough to imagine there might be a chance would match reality that someone, that you could actually care