Foam Walls

[RiverNotch]

Between creamy silences, Something visceral about this line. "Cream" is from milk, and milk always talks about something, well, warm, lively, sensuous, in all the senses of those words -- at the same time, it very nicely conveys, at least to me, the image of the brain, where the "Betweens" are both the sulci and gyri. Strong entrance!

there lives a hungry nothing in my brain. Yes, "nothing" doesn't feel like the right word, but I don't think "void" is, either: the length is a complement to the whole poem's brevity. I don't know what you should replace it with, though: maybe leave it as the poem's one (empty) imperfection? But why am I so obsessed with perfection?
It's strange, really, 
that these lonely white walls don't Keep the really: it gives that middle a sense of the conversational that this poem would be too, er, bothersome without. Also keep the "that": I don't think this would live with sudden breaks. I'm not sure about either "lonely" or "white", though: their combination feels a bit redundant, especially with "creamy" and "nothing" preceding. Remove one.
sing. Now I'm reading this as a bit on art, or rather, on being incapable of keeping to art. Nice end. The title feels a bit weak though, now that I think about it: it's a good-enough label, but I think this poem needs something more than that, something (sneakily) eye-opening.