Walls

Turn the oval knob,
Analyzing my thoughts, emotions
As if walking into a crowded room

Push open the door,
It separates my self-admiration,
Otherwise opposed by judgments that lie on the outside,
Where there is laughter,
That does not encompass my mood

Blank walls, suppressed, by crooked picture frames,
Broken blinds, snapshots of my disguise;
Let unwanted light seep through in the early morning

The windows hold images,
They change periodically,
I envy the birds that glide elegantly through the telephone wires

A broken dresser hugs a corner,
It holds my appearance

The bed stands alone in the center,
It is replaceable, same as I,
We both can be removed, shipped away,
All that is left is the scent

Walk backwards,
Forget my thoughts, emotions,
And close the door.