Sitting in the cafeteria
my hand holding a fragile plastic fork:
ice pick grip.

Am I companionless?
No;
Am I alone?
Yes-                                                                                                                    My friends next to me,
yet still distant

Noise of the cafeteria
like a wall.
I’m staring into space.

My ears are muffled,
my eyes are dazed,
my mind is zoned out.

The air, too thick,
the voices, too dense,
the fork, about to snap.

It was never made strong anyway