The heat is heavy and thick
It sits weighing with a stench
that sticks to your skin, making you feel unclean.
drip from the corner of your forehead
down to your mouth
and a week ago I would’ve laughed.
But today I’m quiet, I feel unclean.
Fruit sits in a basket from Target
and though you spent hours killing nats,
it's all in vain.
(you would’ve thought) we neglected
though strong and resilient,
have gone bad.
The clock ticks deafening in the silence,
heavy and thick with disappointment.
A droplet finally forms near brow
and slides down
tingling to Cupid’s bow.
with salt near a cut in my mouth,
wounded by silence.
I finally find my voice
in a harrowing gasp.