Apathy (a Poem from April's P.A.D)

Apathy

Appetite, large and cavernous
lies empty, yet full
of things possible.

Touch, breathe, and smile.
The song and dance leaves them shaking
(bones, heads, hands)
in open, simplistic need.

Friends, lovers, family
foreigners on familiar turf pull like
magnets—no gravity—inescapable
impossible to ignore.

The void of their emotion sucks
like swamp muck and yet, you can’t
feel a thing.