Laughter spills through cracked window glass

Laughter spills through cracked window glass,

dark shapes flicker on paint-peeled walls.

A riot from a life I cannot pass,

while my ceiling creaks and softly falls.

Unbidden joy, sharp, unwelcome,

a cough of light from the next floor.

Their warmth threads through my cold humdrum,

a noise I’ve never heard before.

I lie still with quiet theft,

holding breath against the sound.

The laughter folds me, hollow, left

to listen where none will be found.