Untitled |
By Kyle Brooks |
They are telling each other
About my lost identity. Listing my faults, Selling my reason, Breaking my motivation, Telling me that I am different. A room full of woes, And the plumbing cannot stop the cement Seeping through the cracks In the plywood. The walls begin to yell As if I can't hear. They tell me who used to be. The walls are listening. Listening to the ways that I have changed. |