What do I care
      if other people have friends
      that they can express their anger freely?

What do I care
      that love avoids me
      and my world seems empty and cold?

What do I care
      that others sit and talk
      and share their victories and defeats?

. . .

It is said that a soul with no contact cannot thrive
      cannot learn to live beyond itself
      and barely even exists.

but -

what do I care?

my tears do not heal, mend, or release
they're only wet