in My Writing, Poems

Napowrimo 2020 Day 21- Confessions

I know they have secrets to spill,
given everything they’ve witnessed.
I’ve tried different approaches,
asking “How are you?” directly or
“Did you see the game last night?”
as an icebreaker. They never respond,
remain stubbornly shy. Perhaps
I have not found the right topic.

Some nights the floorboards creak
out curses as they shrink or expand.
At times, the computer sings softly
to itself, a single note to clarify
the air. I have heard these stories
too often, consider their secrets dull.

I know the walls understand more
than they let on, but I am unnerved
by their lack of reply. “It’s OK,”
I whisper, late at night, palm on
the cool bricks “You can trust me.”
They remain speechless. All I hear
is my own breath, slow and patient,
and outside the persistent muttering
of winds, yearning to find a way in.


Prompt was “The silent walls” from LemondaisyPoetry on Instagram

Let me know what you think

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  1. this poem is quite charming! especially in the time of this virus, we are all talking to the walls! But there is something innately intimate that I feel this poem is aiming at, and yet like walls, there are these limits. It reminds me of a time before I was to move out of new york, I wanted to write a poem to my apartment and was curious about how many people’s stories and lives had lived in the same place before me– I never wrote the poem, but there is still that curiosity of that intimate history of a place!

    • Thanks! I was aiming for something intimate but I’m not quite sure what.

      You should definitely write that poem it sounds very cool. Here by Richard McGuire is a graphic novel dealing with the same thing – the same house overlaid with time