An clean room
An empty room
A room that once had Black Butler posters
Littering the wall
A room that once had dark, dirty clothes
Littering the floor
You enter the room,
Collecting what you missed the last time
Your headphone charger
Your journal
Your favorite books
Your favorite stuffed animal
Then you find your old friend
You consider leaving it
"It's so nice to see that you're doing well,"
They say
You smile and leave,
Giving them a hug on the way out
You say nothing
About the scissors in your back pocket.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Neurotic Insomniac
PoetryLet's see how this goes. It's time for this sleep-deprived, emotionally-unstable creature to write some shit down.
