Indifferent Green

The bathroom, cold tile.

The scale sat, a white block.

A quick, indifferent smile.

It did not tick, nor clock.

I stood. The plastic gave.

A little groan. Then the light

flashed. What I wished to save

from sight, became bright.

Green numbers. Stark and clear.

A cold, hard, simple sum.

A small, familiar fear.

From which I couldn't run.

It settled. Just a digit.

Then blank. A quiet end.

A truth, a precise fidget.

A message it would send.