Cockroaches and Cake
The walls of my brain
keep closing in.
A sliver of light
slips in, uninvited,
and inside, hundreds of cockroaches
squirm and huddle to one side.
A few slip out
and drop into the kitchen.
The one scurrying under the fridge
I crush without a second thought.
And beside their bodies
my birthday cake, cold for days now,
just stares at me.
Notes
The poem is about the juxtaposition of celebration and disgust. Both dies with time. At the end you have to look at both of them with same indifferent eyes. The decay equalizes everything.