Please tell me that the door has locked.
I’ll pretend to lose my strength if you pretend to swallow the key.
I like to walk through different decades.
Mozart plays and I listen.
My senses enhance, the minutes go past while I caress the cactus by the window.
Perhaps spines hurt more than thorns.
I observe people from a safe distance but I get distracted tracing up stains left behind by the rain.
The kettle likes to scream.
Yesterday and I comfort each other in the living room.
Afternoons that promised what the outside world couldn’t .
Meet me again next year around this time.
I will be slightly older but happier.
Just make me a promise.
Don’t start walking away until I tell you.
I’ll keep myself captive for a bit longer.
Mozart is playing and I have to listen.