My unsent poems

inhabitable

the window in my apartment does not open
Which is a shame of course
There's so much I'd like to let in

the light bulb in the bathroom
is shattered in pieces
I lost control and lighting at around the same time

The book we had exchanged
Is sitting by my nightstand
It's worsening my asthma
Dust particles,
all dust 

The shape of a square
rusts on my fridge
The photo we took at the festival at winter

And my aching body
weaker than the day before
piece by piece it breaks
Making  it inhabitable
Along with the apartment