She’s plugged in her headphones
Crouched in a corner of the one bedroom flat
Her clothes for the next day
Hang in the hallway over the welcome mat

She sees her own reflection
Looking back from the blank TV screen
She stares for a while and then she mimes the words

And on those days when she is looking around her
She’s so amazed by the things that she sees
But most days she only sees herself

Upstairs behind another locked door
He’s watching a movie that he’s seen before
The phone’s off the hook, the curtains are drawn
The benches are clean and the dishwasher’s on

He sees his own reflection
In a frame on the wall that’s catching the light
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He hadn’t realised that he looked so tired

And on those days when he is looking around him
He’s so amazed by the things that he sees
But most days he only sees himself

Next morning they pass in the hall
Both of them stare straight at the floor
And all they can hear is the sound of their shoes
As they climb in their cars to the radio news

They’re stuck in traffic now
At opposite ends of the very same street
And just like everybody else
Driving with four spare seats

And if today they were looking around them
They’d be amazed by the things that they’d see
They don’t even see themselves



Thanks to Elle

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