Voices Unseen

A flickering bulb casts shadows on tiles,

as secrets spill softly, muffled in wiles.

I sit in the stall, just a listener to pain,

a stranger’s confession, like water through grain.

Words bleed through the wall, like ink on the page,

a tale of betrayal, of love turned to rage.

I should leave this space, walk away from the sound,

but the gravity pulls, I’m anchored, I’m bound.

With every soft whisper, I’m drawn to the truth,

a moment of honesty, raw and uncouth.

The boundaries of privacy, thin as the air,

and in this small space, we all share despair.