I am the lost hum of dawn in a bachelor's room
Who lies awake with tired eyes
I am his calm and faltering discontent
That blooms with the watering of his hidden cries

I am the spots he overlooks in the mirror
Made by the fists of his hands that never clean
I am the river he steps over on his kitchen floor
Spilt by a bottle he used to drink away his dreams

I am the collared shirt at the back of his closet
That his mother gifted him when he went away.
I am the tag on the shirt and the noose around his neck
Waiting for him to admit he is not okay.