At the End of the Day 9

Some nights
in the back
in the basement
next to broken floorboards
and mouse droppings
and the sounds of traffic insinuating
into your thoughts
when all you want
are pleasant dreams
or a few moments of quiet respite
you might come to realize
that the only way
you will be heard
is if you shout
but if you’d have to shout
perhaps it wouldn’t really be worth
the breath to speak it.

Of course
those nights in question
are solitary
and filled with boundless noise
so no shout would elicit any change
at all
so
there’s that.

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