The room holds 

me together.

Open the door 

and I’ll ooze 

apart, forget my 

limbs and breathing 

to the air.

I’ll be revealed, and 

all the tears 

I cried 

will stream 

down the window 

pane and evaporate 

in the sun. 

I’ll be memory 

in the room 

alone, the walls 

hold me.

They remember. 

The walls 

know me. 

Turn off the lights and 

the room sees 

clearly. It breathes 

the street 

lights and sleeping 

arms. Cradle me 

and keep 

us together.

The room hurts 

me with its spiteful 

truths. Always 

listening. Tender 

executioner. Labelling 

me a bore. Don’t 

forget me 

or I shall drip 

through the floorboards.