The Quiet

Tapping my knee against the maple of a desk
holding my head high, ignoring all the rest
I lay back on the floor boards of all un opened
thoughts, and blink rappidly in the direction
of a door that's never locked
I inhale out of habit, exhale for the steam
thats blowing through my nostrils of my hardly
woken dream
I lisp over my words that I mumble to my self,
put all of my bad grammar in the back of the highest shelf
wipe away the fog, walk backwards up the stairs,
there's no one else but me in this room
and the quiet's the only one to stare.