Cricket in the desk

How many decibel
A cricket in the desk

Blasting eardrums

Plugs in my head

Play a better tune 

I stare

At yellow stained curtains

Sucked
Into the fan’s rotation

Again and again 
I left the closet open

Green metal, stickers veneering

Army style, armoured insects

Creeping inside, preparing for war

All covered 
In layers of dust

Mixed with sweat 
Protects from ozone depletion

Windows latticed, 

Smog burns my breath

If there is fire 
I lock myself

Into the closet’s dark air

Sitting next to a moth

Eating the nerves of my dress

I wait for the cricket

To burn to silence