Tracks in the Snow

I cannot tell where I have been.

Those tracks are covered

by the softening snow,

melting,

and all I hear these days

are apologies and losses

which I tally upon cold walls,

some booming steps

edge ever nearer

the silhouette’s teeth visible,

dreams more vivid

than before,

the waking nightmare I trudge through

contrasted by the past,

and my diminishing hopes

for the future

I can’t hear you saying sorry

but I see your lips move

the walls have closed in too tightly

and are crushing

my head.