As I sit in this pale room with paint chipping off the walls,
I try to envision all the memories that i can recall.
The smell of you has faded from your cracked face porcelin dolls,
the rust comes off on my hands from the ancient curtain rods.
A bitter sweet smell from your old popari jar,
the wall paper tearing off the walls reminds me of old scars.
The bed in the middle of the room the colors from the blankets and pillows are all worn,
Walking on your old floor in bare feet still feels warm.
The old teddy bear that used to keep me company while i slept,
it\'s funny how an unanimate object can still act out death.
Dust layers itself on your old bookshelf,
with old books like to kill a mocking bird and the guide to mental health.
I wish you were still here but your room will suffice,
memories of you are all need to get by.
