Reciprocal Mistrust

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.