Torpid

By Meilkuiazjuh Cyril Eyteen Vargas

Little secrets kept
within a box,
feel empty
with all the space that lingers
a void
that only dirty lies can fill

gaping holes that engulf

all honesty
all her unevenness
and emptiness
lie down
to a windowless cabin she regards as home

smothered with shame
she carves
on the bulwarks
of disdain and disappointment

but she does not break free.

perpetually trapped
in the screeching echoes
of white lies that were drowned in bleach,
she does not break free

her empty home is good enough for me.