The Days I Waste

There are days where time moves so slowly I feel every second in a minute pass by.
If that is boredom, then I know it well.
The hours I've wasted staring up at the sky,
With my mind creating images and patterns where none exist.
The mind is an ego-centric being trying to impress
Upon the clouds its own designs.

I hear in the distance a dog barking and a bird singing.
I feel the sun warming my flesh.
I see the periwinkle sky dotted with the white wisps of clouds.
Yet I am thinking about the nothingness of it all.
The hollowness that is inside my soul processes no emotions.

I only know the world by its cold aethestics.
The subtle tones and varying shades of humanity are lost to me.
Another hour today is no different then an hour tomorrow.
I've burned out my emotional retinas.
My perception is tainted with the bitterness of heartbreak.