Work Text:
The neon lights are flickering,
the music is blasting out loud.
cookies and cokes are served on the table.
But there's no one home.
The sound of laughter can be heard.
Sounds artificial yet so sincere,
scary to think that it's fake.
Invitations said, but none sent.
It's all planned, not even half the fun.
There's no one home.
Still, there's no one home.
Just a person and their will,
returning back to their soul,
untill there's no one home.
