Empty rooms.

Empty rooms.

Speaking out loud,

In search of answers,

As a reprieve,

From the hurt of silence.

The rebuttal,

An assault on the ears,

A wilful hurl of echoes.

The gap between

Two sounds is endless

And to build a bridge

Across the deepening divide,

Brazen words tumble out

In a curse of defiance.

Fighting a tide of indifference

They lose their bearings,

Fall to the floor,

Bounce across the room,

And ping off tight lipped walls

That guard

Their privacy well.

Whole sentences

Dissipate in a welter

Of irreverent disregard,

Shatter into a splatter of

Pointless unease.

Slide recklessly

Over the worktop,

Dribble across a short

Row of dishes,

Standing to attention,

On the drainer,

Clean white lines,

Air drying.

The odd phrase,

Dripping, down,

Into the sink.

Crumbs of comfort

Hide in a biscuit barrel,

A taste of

Short bread relief,

Fortifying the spirit

For a moment,

And you pour a drink.

Too much time

To think.

Music plays,

A new playlist

Almost free of association.

A sounding board

For the steam iron,

Straightening the creases

On collars and cuffs,

The effort enough

To keep up appearances.

So much space,

That once felt smaller

When life was bigger.

The challenge now

Is to fill the room,

And stem the slippage,

As deeper troughs of

Insignificance loom,

Ever larger.