i hate this empty house. 

beneath every floorboard,
a void
a yaw of wretched midnight 
clawing footsteps, pacing
and pacing
echoes banging
barbed and noosed
by nothing 

and the only thing louder 
than the bathroom fan I never turn off
than the drip of a sink, the tick of the gas stove
than the sleepless train yards and slick black streets
than the desperate, hollow orgasms in a cold and emptied bed 
the only thing louder 
is the shudder
the whimper in my chest
that escapes when i don't want it to
the howling knowledge that I'd been this alone 
all along .

and id never felt so small 
and id never felt so small 
and id never felt so small 

a prey creature with panicked, convex eyes
inside and out
apt to looking everywhere for this 
jagged little pill 
(my prescription)

but knowingly 
I swallow 
the glass
of absence