Static

The clinking glass, a rising tide

of laughter, bright and loud.

I stand here, with nowhere to hide,

within this shifting crowd.

Their eyes meet, glance, then move away,

a blank, indifferent stare.

So many words they have to say,

but none of them to share.

The fairy lights, a pulsing gleam,

reflect in empty eyes.

I watch them live their busy dream,

and hear their happy lies.

I nod, I smile, a painted grace,

a stranger in plain sight.

Just air and noise fill up this place,

a hollow, heavy night.

The silence in my head's so vast,

the chatter just a blur.

How long can this feeling last?

Or does it just recur?