Observing Privacy From a Distance

The walls of the house hold in warmth
But panes of glass that seem so thin
Something's letting sound in
I hear a crunching, looking up
I see a person walking through the slush
I hear their footsteps on the street
Can they hear my creaking floorboards?

Final Push

Unwritten lines of ink
Laying in the
Dark swaths beneath
My eyes
Pushing on with
Jittery pulse
Driven by the deadline
And the caffeine
And the scent of failure
Fear in the air
Seeping from the skin
Battling with half-conscious
Thoughts
And hoping for something better
Seeking only the end
The release and temporary freedom