Communication stopped being an option long ago. No one was to blame, it just happened. Something broke inside, and left me all alone here. It's not that the passions gone, but it's too cold for it to be real. Without any outside contact, it grew cold and stale. Regret fosters and festers into resentment. Bitterness overloads any basic function to feel, and leaves one without a voice.
The candle was simply snuffed out. The eyes closed, and the television opened up. The snow crippled and proved that the understatement was nothing more than a popular belief. We could never show our motive. The lack of compassion, it's been too long between the blink and the tear. Have the circuits atrophied?
If I understood why, I would tell you. I would explain why it twitches, why the impulse to grow ceases. We all forgot what it was like to be alive. I suppose if I really cared, I would have done something about it. Desire has died. All that is left is a muscle spasm.
The patterns that never fade away. I'll never forget the pieces that were crushed.