Lips curled
The words lay heavy on my tongue
That tastes the stench of stale coffee,
Permeating dirty laundry
The only air that flows
Goes
In and out
Of my mouth
Mocking thoughts
That can’t grow--or shrink-- themselves
Into words
Strong enough to break this silence
But weak enough to not break you
In your dimness of too many closed curtains
Musk of too many closed doors
Your dishes line the sink
Tuesday’s dinner and Wednesday’s fatigue
And the analog alarm

On your bedside table
Stuck on 12am
You’re trapped inside walls

That only look in