Life’s Yellow Stains

i thought the screams would be more significant

echo, sustain, at the very least tremble, shake

the foundation, crack the plaster, split the glass

but the louder they came, the quicker it all disappeared

in wisps of blue smoke, across chapped lips, between

decayed teeth, dancing where a tongue once rooted

now torn from its throne, wags somewhere in the corner

of a room prepared for someone just like me, just like you

until, in the throes of our rebellion, we fail to notice

as another day unknowingly collapses all that has stood

for this long, and within the remnants we still scream

among the rubble and the stains of an old mattress

that no one wants or can figure out what to do with

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