time wasnt right
there is dust
in my childhood bedroom
cobwebs span the corners
reaching out
to touch
the abandoned walls
everything is covered in dust
my books
my floor
my collections, long since abandoned
touch anything and you'll
come away
with gray residue
reminiscent of a life once lived
only
i am still here
living
right?
or am i, too
covered in dust
a relic
of a former girl
this isnt how life is supposed to be