Laughter spills a flood through the cracks

Laughter spills, a flood through the cracks,

like sunlight bleeding through a stained glass,

a burst of warmth in the cold walls I sit.

The muffled joy wraps tight like an old coat,

I remember nights bright with silly jokes,

a shared blanket of unspoken comfort.

Yet here I linger, cocooned in my gloom,

while their cheer drifts through the peeling paint—

a reminder of all that I haven’t felt, lately,

as I lean against this cracked wall, still half asleep.