The Art of Cleaning your Room
And the shadows lurking under the bed
I reminisce in a pile of all you once were to me.
Words never spoken strewn across the floor.
I lift the shambles of the love we once had and begin to place them around me.
Forcing them into shapes to try to find the narrative between you,
And me.
A failed pursuit in easing the anguish of the unknown.
Empty promises leaving their candy wrapper shells.
Questions I crave to have answered come undone,
as I unearth the last piece of trust I held in you,
Shattered and shoved under the bed.
I carry the mattress we once laid on together,
And strip the memories encasing it.
I pick the pieces of who we were,
And begin to separate me from you.
I find parts of myself I hadn’t realized I’d lost,
Recover strength within me I never knew I had.
There are still things I’m searching for,
Traits I have yet to rediscover.
So I lay your things into a box,
And I hold onto hope I’ll one day find what we once held together,
Within myself.
And fall in love with the true reflection of who I am.
