the stage is dark
barren
my footsteps echo
hollowly
no one hears
but me
the swish of a broom
melodic
constant
the janitor bids goodnight.
i sit at the mirror
a face looks back
with tired eyes
hears the voices
that matched the faces
laughing voices silent now
faces detached
drifting
to their final resting place
in the twi-lit coffin of memory.
i step into the night
cold air
gently close the door
the lock clicks
quietly
like the latch on my brittle heart.