The Anthropomorphic Cabinet

empty, used up, trashed but still longing to fit in, coveting a 'normal' life...

a distant dream of being as human as the rest of the world...

once we were called... nothing

There was a time when we used to hang out without any reason... we would throw the ball at each other and laugh, we would spy on people, we would build snow castles, we would stare at the stars by the campfire, we would tell each other anything and everything. Do you still remember all that? Now, now I just wonder when, if ever, comes that moment I fake my last smile around you. 
When has it gone so wrong? What happened with ‘no secrets’? What happened with ‘I’ll never let you go’? I guess our past, our heritage has caught up on us. Simple became complicated. Overnight it seems. We can't even tell the difference between love and hate. There is none anymore, I guess. The line between them is so frail, that it's barely even called a line. It's been warped by confusion and defiance. And by that other thing - selfishness. Maybe we've just grown up, grown into this world of self care. Or is it self destruction? 
And we're here smiling and being conventional, trying to hide, to control. We talk about petty things, we make courtesy calls, we keep in touch just in case... I start wondering in case of what? We both know deep inside it won't ever be as it used to be. It's too late for that now. When I look into your eyes I still feel that kiss, you know. It's like you're a dream. I feel I'm living in a dream. I don't even see you as you are now. I'm seeing you as you were then. It feels so real that sometimes I almost forget that you're different now, that we're different now. That kiss... that kiss was something. It triggered a look of sheer bliss in your eyes. It was a moment of ardent pleasure, a grasp of what eternity feels like. You were in me, and I was in you.
But now we're here smiling at each other like nothing has ever happened. It's a you-can't-touch-me, you-don't-know-me, you-can't-hurt-me smile. We're nothing but two puppets - cold, lifeless, careless. We're nothing but two strangers inured to the own self, feeding on each other's suffering. We're nothing...
And yet again we're here smiling and telling lies to each other, too afraid to open up again. We're building our impenetrable walls around us, which become thicker and thicker with every day that goes by. We're perfectly safe now from each other and from everything else...we're perfectly isolated in our shells...perfectly alone...