Rusty morose

I pushed the innuendo
far across from awe
the future lies beyond this window
but you couldn't care at all

feel her heart
a haunted nostalgia trip
twisted vein shot through her arm
another cause for conflict

whats the prize for your empathy
such a hero where were you then
in your desire clutched to apathy
there lyes his courage in bed with the dead

touch the syringe
your tangible reality
touch her again
and you relate to her agony

distant but one of the same
and that window connects you
a rusty mirror for which you crave