Inventory of a Small Apartment
A folded blanket on the stripped-bare bed,
Three cardboard boxes taped along the seam;
The quiet where a heavy life was led,
A faded ring of coffee, pale as steam.
An empty counter washed of every stain,
A single duffel packed with folded clothes;
A brass key sitting by the windowpane,
A stripped-down space where nothing extra goes.
He turns the key and steps into the cold,
And leaves the quiet shadows on the floor,
To find a life that’s simpler to uphold,
Beyond the threshold of a closing door.
With empty hands and nothing left to hide,
He steps into the quiet world outside.
October 2026