Boxes

Silence, loud, deafening silence. I can’t look her in the eyes, but I can’t rip mine away, so I stare. It’s not awkward or anything, I mean she’s staring too.

I’m angry, I’m furious, I’ll try to let it out by complaining,

by venting, by ranting, maybe to one, two, or even three people.

I sit in the corner, listening to the conversation,

started like it was just breathing to them,

I want that, but my heart doesn’t yearn as much,

or maybe it yearns infinitely more.