That room in my childhood house looks so small. Really in front of my eyes but layered with visions of what used to be.
Do you think of the day I do, when you accidentally fired the toy gun and it put a tiny hole in the wall?
Do you think of the fun and the fear in the way I do?
Are these moments real in your head or are they lost to only the corners of my mind. The characters ghosts of people who used to exist.
That bed in the corner of the room looks so small, but I remember my heart thumping as you advanced on me. Your perfume tingling my nostrils now.
Is that day in your thoughts too or is it lost forever?