Years of waiting and staring at walls: that is the whole world of this short poem. The speaker looks back on a long stretch of time that feels empty, spent doing nothing and going nowhere. The repeated phrase "All these years" sounds weary, as if the speaker is counting the time and still can't believe how much of it has passed. Words like "blunted," "fading," "wasted" and "wasting" make the sadness feel dull and draining rather than dramatic.
The last stanza shifts from the past to a physical moment. The speaker presses their hands against their skull, as if trying to hold their thoughts in or squeeze something out. Words appear "somewhere between" the hands, then vanish. That suggests a mind that wants to express itself, perhaps to write, but can't hold on to anything. The ellipses and broken line breaks leave the poem trailing off, which adds to the mood: quiet, stuck, tired, with only a faint flicker of effort at the end.