if this bath water could talk, would it expose the secret, man-made imperfections on my body that it currently soothes

                               but initially stings

if the trees could whisper, would they tell of the things they have silently witnessed over the years

some secrets they hold in their bark
some secrets that swallow deep to their very roots

maybe trees are giving away their secrets when their leaves shake in the wind

if this overhead train station clock could talk, would it laugh as it greets friends
would it cry as it separates lovers

did it slow down it's ticking as we embraced at the gates
did it stop completely and take a deep breath in as it witnessed our first, second and third kisses

could it rewind time so I could live those pounding heartbeats once more

if my bedroom walls could talk, would they weep for me, for
they met me when I was a little girl.

do they cry now for my lost future and the woman I am not


(four days.)

for days I have not moved from my bed, if my duvet could comfort me, would it would stroke my hair and tell me it's all in my head


      I wake up and I wish I were dead


oh if things could talk, would we be more eager to listen?

we can hear the lapping of the waves and the whispers in the wind, the creaking of the house and the comfort deep within

but I can speak, so why
won't you listen to me