Dead Thoughts

The brain scratches for a way out
Like a cat pawing at its owner for attention
The nights drawn out and bleak
Black and empty.

But that cat won't get attention
As the owner lays still in silence
Unmoved by the claws deep in their wrist
Wondering where everything went wrong.

Was their smile real?
Were they actually in love?
It was too late to tell
And so they stopped looking for answers.

And as the cat rests for the night
The owner still doesn't move
For that person is dead
And I wish that person were me.