Like feeling around in the dark
Trying not to step on toes
Fingers in eyes
Teeth glinting, words warbling
Ignored and then repeated
If still ignored then give it up
Wait for the wave to pass
Then plunge into its dark creases
When you think there’s an opening
(But of course you can never tell)
So you’ll probably end up soaked in shame
A blur in their peripherals
Dunk your head under for a third time
Trying not to get wet
Trying to let your words penetrate
The foamy skin
Stopping short of shouting
Like screaming into the void
But you might as well be on mute
I’ll tear my hair out before this is over
A bald, shadow-slurping mess
Is what I’ll be reduced to
Like feeling around in the dark
For dropped keys on a dusky carpet
Clad in dead skin, fingers twitching
Like being blind at a party
Not knowing who you might grope
Like shouting into the void
Might as well be on mute.
talking to my pillow. 