Alone, at Last

The front door clicked and sealed me in,

a silence loud enough to spin.

Streetlight carving shadows long,

a quiet made of restless song.

The floorboards groan in tired speech,

a language no one else can teach.

Traffic hums a distant song,

but in these rooms, I don’t belong.

The quiet presses sharp and cold,

a voice without a hand to hold.

Night stretches thin, a stretched-out fight—

first time alone, alone all night.