The Eye of the Window

Stare all you want, you are ignored.

The Eye of the Window

Days pass by, but I feel nothing...
No hunger, no thirst, no pain, no weariness.
Staring out the window as life goes on around me,
Ignoring me as I have grown accustomed.

The room encloses,
Gets smaller everyday.
I have not left it, I gave up long ago.
Pounding, fighting, screaming
Gave way to nothing.
The door is locked,
And will forever be to my touch.
The window is barred,
Save a small portion open to my viewing.
To look but not to feel...
Such is my true hell.

Inside, it's destroyed.
The furniture in shards, 
The walls shredded and scraped with blood and fingernail.

I died in this room.

And yet, here I stay,
Where there is no sleep,
No conception of time.
There is only the blank void I live from now on.
What little light there is stares back at me,
Unblinking
Like a teasing salvation I can never reach,
A reminder of a happiness I once had.

So I look on, through the eye of the window,
Where it is beautiful...
So beautiful....

Author's Note

This was written over a decade ago, initially describing my envious feelings toward civilians after being stationed at Ft. Bliss in the military. It is open to interpretation.