Too Quiet Poem by Nika McGuin

Its too quiet in here, he said.
I told him silence was good for me,
with TV I can't hear my own thoughts
over all the yapping of strangers.
His response was that it made him
think too much, regret too much.
He couldn't stand to be alone
with his own thoughts.

He flipped on the television
but didn't stay to watch it.
He wandered a couple of rooms.
I didn't watch him, so don't ask
what he did in them. All I know
is that he left the light on
in the bathroom, and he left
the TV on in the kitchen.

He went outside, leaving the house
ajar, like the emotions he refused
to face, like the sins that caused
him to avoid his own reflection.