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Padlock
There is something in the air
and I’m not sure what it is.
Something acrid,
repugnant,
looming foulness
Something warm, too warm,
like the damp breath of a mutt
like a bowl of rotten food
like a silence too heavy
and too long
There is something in the air,
and when I meet your eyes,
I know you know it’s there, too.
A pulsing, writhing mass
of something we know
but dare not speak
A time capsule
of spoiled promises,
of a plead I made
that was never fulfilled
an omen of something dark
There is something in the air
and I know what it is.
It is a padlocked door,
a heavy hand,
a sentence unspoken
unheard
undesired.
I wonder why, for a moment,
you locked it in the first place.
I think I know the answer to that, too.
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This poem is about refusing to communicate because you know a relationship is failing; it’s about the feeling of going down that sinking ship and doing nothing to stop it because you’re too afraid.