The quiet of this room wraps around me

The quiet of this room wraps around me,

like a blanket too heavy to shed.

I stare at the crossword, half-done,

pencil marks scrawled like secrets,

a futile attempt to distract from chaos,

each box a possibility left blank.

Remembering the argument,

small, sharp words thrown like darts,

a definition contested, our tempers rising,

words gnaw like unfinished puzzles

that cling to the walls, aching to be filled—

what did it mean to solve it anyway?