Corners

The corners of the wall in my room 

stare at me. 

I am a boy jumping on the bed. 

I am a teenager listening to the radio. 

They're there. 

Same colour, same shape, staring at me. 

I'm anxious over a girl I'm crushing over. 

They're still there. Unchanged. 

Are they hoping for me? 

I brought her home. 

I'm kissing her passionately. 

We fuck. 

We're in love

talking about being old by a fireplace. 

They stare. 

Are they happy for me? 

She's gone. 

I'm crying my destroyed soul out. 

They...

They've not changed a fraction. 

They are staring at me. 

Ever the same. 

Always there. 

Staring...

Are they judging me?

I'm gone. 

They're still there. 

Do they miss me?