A floor coated
in half empty boxes,
old scribbled on pages
of poems
never seeing the eyes of another,
socks scattered
in every corner,
and dirty
t-shirts lying in between.
A layer of dust
zig-zagging
through the mismatched earrings
and unpaid parking tickets
on the dresser. Debris
that is seemingly nailed down,
no right place to begin
wiping down
the ever-growing
clutter in your head.