It couldn’t have been me
See?
The direction the spackle protrudes
A noisy neighbor?
An angry boyfriend?
I’ll never know, I wasn’t home.
I peer inside for a clue
No. I can’t see.
I reel, blind.
Like a film left out in the sun.
But its too late
My retinas, already scorched
With a permanent copy of the meaningless image
Its just a little hole, it wasn’t too bright
It was too deep, stretching forever
Into everything
A hole of infinite choices
I realize now that I wasn’t looking in
I was looking out
And he, on the other side, was looking in.

But he wasn’t looking at me.
Confused, I frantically glance at my surroundings
But my burnt eyes can no longer see color
Are there others in this room?
Are they talking?
Or are they simply poems on flat sheets of paper?
The sound of frantic scrolling playing tricks on my ears
The room begins to crinkle, closing in on me
The air I breathe dissipates before it reaches my lungs
I panic, there must be a way out!
It’s right there!
He’s right there!
Swallowing my fears, I reach out for him.