"I'm Fine, Thanks For Asking"

I don't have to answer
how I am because I know
you're going to tell me.
We don't have conversations,
you do.
I just watch and wait,
a slow death delivered in first-person.

Eventually your words
fade to a background noise,
like organs writhing
in their lazy bubbles.
When I'm bored enough
I peer inside,
searching for something real
...daylight, maybe?
But it's all too fucking tedious.

I'm so happy that you're happy.
So you keep saying.