My Life In Word

Dissonance

He wakes to sunlight tasting wrong,
a sweetness cut with metal bright,
the clock ticks loud but time feels bent,
each second stretching out of sight.
His smile fits like borrowed clothes,
warm at first, then tight with seams,
his laughter cracks in brittle notes
that splinter softly through his dreams.
He moves through rooms that buzz and hum,
air thick as wool inside his chest,
his heart beats out of sync—two truths,
one pulling on, one laid to rest.

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Teena Lalawat on Unsplash 
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