Yellow light cuts through the dark floor
In the room over, slurred speech and smoke sing
My ear is placed on the wall to hear the other side
I lean and reach to open the door,
careful not to leave my bed in case the phone rings
I leave it ajar so you know I’m alive
So the cold air can seep through the wall
I open it just enough to see what it will bring
Just enough to still hear you outside
Half a year has passed since
A written letter– two times I tried
When trying to tell you, my pen ran dry
But this is what I remember—
You spend so long cradling tears in your eyes,
looking to the thundering sky so they don’t spill
that your vision becomes blurry
and you cannot see
all that you really are