Jane will tell a lie
and doors
will click shut,
her key will turn,
solitude.
Jane will shed a tear
and silence
will envelope her,
the latches are still down,
sorrow.
and the unspoken scrabble tiles
linger and glitter
taunting all in the room with
elephant feathers.
Jane will cave in,
implode.
and latches and locks will be
the
only
witnesses.
Ignoring the feathers
won't help Jane
get better.
So blow out the candles,
17
candles
and wish Jane
another year.