empty eyes

empty eyes look out
    looking anywhere but each other
a cartoon, a cartoon plays on a small television in the corner

all so nonchalant
    I am not
sorrow overwhelms me
    disgust in the action I am to take

come to the room, yet another tv
    this one to confirm what is already known
8 weeks she says with a smile
    smile, wonder what demons lurk in her heart

cold, my heart pounds
    bile rises in my throat
I pray for an out
    it comes
man with a needle who tells me to count
    1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

a gruesome bunch we make
    all waking up
looking every where but each other
    have some juice

how are you feeling?
    I am feeling like I just died
deflated
    don't ask me again how I feel
I might just tell you.

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"I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman."
- Virginia Woolf