the light
doesn’t knock
it leaks
through a crack
in a thought
I didn’t finish
someone said my name
but it sounded like a question
so I didn’t answer
shoes by the door
arguing with the floor
about who’s supposed to leave first
I write
then erase
then stare at the eraser
like it owes me something
coffee goes cold
because I forgot
I was holding time
there’s a version of me
standing still
while everything else
runs past waving
if I blink
the room rearranges
just enough
to make me doubt
I fold silence
into smaller silences
until it fits
in my pocket
don’t ask where I’m going
I’m already late
to a feeling
I haven’t had yet
the night hums
like it knows a secret
and refuses
to explain it
I almost sleep
but catch myself
falling
so I stay awake
to watch it happen
again.