the sun rises
tired eyes awake from a groggy sleep
a sigh escapes
their head aches from last nights late work
they rub their head to soothe out the pain
the pain remains
they trudge their heavy footsteps toward the bathroom
the lights switch
they look up to see their reflection
the pain numbs
not because it's lessened but because the person staring back at them is not them
the person's staring
they're worn out and unhappy
the person's staring
they're unsatisfied with work and life
the person's staring
what happened to the dreams and laughs
the person's staring
they've become a robot, no, a zombie to what society deems successful
the person's staring
they have a nice salary, a nice penthouse, and a nice position
the person's staring
and they stare back for the first time in a long time
and a soft whisper comes out from their chapped lips,
this isn't nice