The Room with the Chair at the Door

I didn’t choose this room
didn’t want the quiet it offered
or the scent of someone else's sorrow
stitched into the sheets

They went where the water was warm
left me here
behind the first door a stranger would open
guarded only by a chair

I lay still
pretending not to notice
how joy drove away without me

I cried soft
so the walls wouldn’t tell
and taught myself
how to survive being unwanted
without making a sound

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