I go home and I let my hair down, dark brown and I wish I had energy to wash it
Wet eyes quiet fingers quiet
Phone silent, I let it die and
put on a movie just to feel less alone when I watch it
Solitary confinement and feeling trapped. lost at home
I'm on stilts, but I sink?
In blankets stagnant
every fragment of stained glass that falls from my eyes is sharper than the razors
I press play
And the soundtrack drowns out anything I could have to say.