The bar hums, a disharmonious machine.
Words overlap like clumsy, drunken dancers.
No one hears, just mouths moving, always.
Eyes fixed on bottles, hands twitch, gripping.
I sit in the corner, silent, unseen.
The jukebox spits out broken tunes, endless.
They talk at each other, never with anyone.
Each sentence ricochets, halted mid-air, lonely.
They brag, lie, curse, but who is there?
They\'d vanish if mirrors reflected their truths.
The ashtray spills its guts onto the table.
Cigarettes burn short lives, quicker than confessions.
A howl in my throat dies unspoken, locked.
They wouldn’t hear me through self-built prisons.
All I want is to disappear through cracks.
Unheard and unseen, like I never existed.