it’s so cleancut in here,
it’s almost unreal to see that when I leave here I come back and everything is so prim and proper when my mind is such a mess. Everything matches so well, the flower printed comforter and the flower embroidered walls. The pretty smelling soaps, the shampoos and conditioners you can never find in real stores but look forward to seeing every year as you stumble back into this room. Towels always freshly folded, ready to be used and be soiled with your dirty self after a long day at the beach. These drawers, I open them and they don’t seem as full as usual. Something always seems to be missing in this room. TV’s glued to the desk, no one can be trusted these days can they? Really, it’s glued; I tried to move it over to see it better from my side of the bed. Oh, and the two identical looking lamps, one for my side, one for my mom’s side. For a few days it feels like heaven, then it all seems so unreal. You lay on this bed that isn’t the same firmness as what you’re usually sleeping soundly on, and you find yourself spiraling in nostalgia of what you had before you were in this room. You pull the curtains and all you see is someone you don’t know mowing the lawn and smiling at you, who is that? I find myself wondering if I should wave back, didn’t momma always tell you not to talk to strangers? This table always has 2 chairs on it overlooking the beautiful scene of grass and a wood fence, oh the sight. This container is filled with ice, but there’s no refrigerator for you to get a drink from. You fend for yourself here, you buy what you chose to. Tell me now, where am I? Why is there a film of doubt over these eyes of mine? When I kick off the sheets is it noon time?
