In the morning they ask me how I am

To which I reply, heartbroken

They shrug, as if saying, still?

As if saying, you were heartbroken last week,

There is a limit, a quota, and as it comes,

You’re sucking all heartbreak out of the air

Hoarding it all for yourself

Maybe, you should leave some for others.

To which I reply, maybe.

In physics they taught us that everything ends

Eventually.

Joy, wonder, anger and sadness – everything dissipates in entropy.

But how about silence, I wonder,

How about loneliness and your overwhelming absence,

Is there an end to the end

Or does the end unfold endlessly

In the never-ending succession of lost things?

None of these subjects are suitable for morning small talk

So I shrug and ask instead

How are you?