Shuffle forward into the next room,
tell me, what do you notice?
Curtains stained with wine on lonely nights,
when your hand could not steady your soul,
and a bit of wine or your soul, you're not sure,
spills onto the curtains you bought years ago,

They were yellow like you anyways,
and in this memory you see yourself pleading with god
"Help me" you beg, a whisper to the void
but you know no one can hear you
in locked dreams kept under your bed,
in dusty thoughts trapped in your head,