Breakfast, and Other Small Violences
the spoon snapping
like a jack russell
at the bowl,
metal
tapping his teeth —
a bright, unbearable code.
Stop scraping.
The chew,
the crunch …
do I sound like this
to the world?
like a broom
worrying the floor
with every breath?
His phone leans
against the salt shaker,
thumb scrolling
through other lives.
Again
that scrape.
I step outside,
air rinsing off the edges.
I love this man —
but not
his noises.
Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: love and anti-love
Not all images are created using Midjourney, but all writing is my own original work. ©Misky 2006-2026.
It's Still Life 
Your comments are always welcome