Some drown
in the shallow pool
left after a punch-
line, before its verdict
sound or silence
the world is watching
swing the gavel already

Others lie awake
on a mattress that
squeaks on one side
untouched on the other.
They stuff their ears
full with neon lumps
but the quiet is lonelier.

I stand on a tower
staring at the view
staring back at me
no shade to hide under
I’m much too pale
and I’m burning
and its precarious
far too precarious
at any moment
I could stumble
and
stay up here
forever.