counting knots in the wood slats-

the ones i can feel my nonexistent breath bounce off against

the ones holding up the musty mattress that does not get granted a body for most of the year

silent cabin

i lay cold with the carcasses of beatles

have i been forgotten about?

the dryer is empty

there aren't any ears to welcome the applause of the rain on the metal roof

so it doesn't make a sound

night time is dark and so is the day

when the air grows warm and damp i finally see feet

i am awake to witness

that the old mattress is relieved to be slept on 

the dryer boasts loud about its excitement of zippers

and the proud rain once more is heard

but what about me?

i have never made a sound through my cloth face

im dying to yell to tell them i want to be seen

because i can't remember the last time i was held by a child

but i don't yell

and they don't see me

the air is growing dry

everything is packed away

i'm alone again

and for the very first time i breathe

it has taken me an eternity to realize 

i am the one who's tucked myself away here

i forgot about me.

silent cabin

always wondering when summer comes

if it will finally be the summer i acknowledge me.