It’s stuffy in there

How would I know anything better if I’d never been outside

Inside that house darkness smothers out the light

I hate even the sheer white curtains in front of the windows

The carpet underneath me is artificial

It doesn’t feel good to my toes

There’s a hint of cigarette smoke, unsuccessfully covered

The whole setting is wistful

The air’s thick and heavy

The TV is loud: game shows and politics

I’ve got to get out

I’m feeling sick

Two generations in the living room

I sit on the cushy sofa

It tries to swallow me

As my hip flexors shrink and my muscles waste

I hope the exhaustion doesn’t show in my face

Is everyone looking at me or is this all just in my head

Retired, bored, hungry

I think soon enough we’re going to be dead

Is anyone listening in all the chatter

I don’t want to talk about work

Or current world matters

Or all the things that hurt

The sun sets outside

It gets darker inside

Is this my lot in life

I’m drowning, suffocating

Spent and all the while waiting

For something

A knock is at the door

My husband is there with my dog

My family

He says, “Let’s go home and eat dinner”

I say goodbye

Step onto the porch

There’s still a little bit of sunlight

Dusk’s torch

The air is bright

There’s silence

Earth under my feet

It’s real and sweet

I don’t feel so crazy now

He holds my hand, my dog’s tail brushes my leg

I look at the sky

It’s so good to be out