humidifier nights

droplets of rain flutter

 on the court fabricating

 a sheen, an impending

tragedy. a cracked window

 sighs, harmonizing with 

the birds' chorus. 

where am i?     where are we? 

erected shells living 

in graves we call homes. 

click.

 running out of water, yet 

i don't have it in me to refill it. 

i guess i'll have a humidifier-less night.

Author's Note

ignore the lack of capitalization, it just stylization.

Reviews

[Chris]

sounded like a lay there silent and in the dark moment - the only draw being the sushing of the water mist and the mind's questioning of a "now".