I don't know what this is, and it's so short, sorry. Hopefully, I will have an actual update soon. I don't own things.
The morning greets her in shades of grey light through the kitchen window as she pours one cup of coffee instead of two.
When she gets dressed for work, the partially empty closet mocks her.
The busy streets spin with the chaos of sound, but it falls on deaf ears.
As a bird flies unhindered into the sky, she wishes she too could ascend on feathered wings.
She snaps her gaze down to the sidewalk, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.
How strange the way cracks echo inside of her like a mocking allegory for her woe torn heart.
She's grateful for her work. It's a beating drum tethering her to the earth.
She's good at what she does, and in the flurry of papers and tasks, she buries her loneliness.
All the while, he remains across space impenetrable.