Apathy has become a normalized routine
Within six years, I haven't felt a thing
My spirit has withered like the fallen leaves upon a tree
And it's hard to find peace within the confines of broken wedding rings

I'm afraid to feel sad, not knowing what it will bring
But you can't just pick and choose
Feelings come together and cannot be handpicked
So you either feel nothing, or it's everything you lose

The cause of this apathy stems from trauma
Where I've been battered and beaten down
Torn apart limb by limb
Crying tears from which I'll later drown

Thrown away and picked back up
Shattered and glued together
Fighting a war that's seemingly endless
While the world views my struggles to be as light as a feather

Abandoned at a young age
And unsure of where to turn
I found solace within self-expression
That didn't require me to crash and burn

Writing unlocked a part of me I didn't know existed
It enabled me to express my feelings
In a form that I could still hide behind
So that no one could differentiate fiction from my personal dealings

The art of apathy is intricate but distinctive
Emotional abuse deterring my personality
But writing allows me to be me
Outside of the typical neutrality