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childhood bedroom

I’m sitting at my desk in my bedroom, windows open, moonlight pouring in.
Printed photos and polaroids of my highschool friends hang around me and it smells like a mixture of incense and victorias secret perfume.
My clothes are strewn about in messy piles across the floor and my shelves are full of books someone read lifetimes ago.
I’m sitting at my desk, something I (I?) have done maybe a billion times before and yet it feels new and I realize that this may be the first time I have been here.

This is not my room and this is not my desk.

I open all the drawers in the dresser, dig through the piles of laundry, and peek between every book on the shelf.
I scour the floor, and ransack the closet, and tear through every journal I can find .
I pin up clues on the walls like an old school detective: old text receipts, polaroids, and used- up sketchbook pages.
I go mad wondering who it was, who used to sit at this desk everyday and I wonder why I don’t feel like her anymore.
She has my name, and my hair, and my face and her imprint is in my bed.
But she is gone now.
She went missing when I got on that train and died when it arrived and I think it was me who killed her.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content
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Really enjoyed this piece MM - well done! This really gave me the sense of reflecting back on one's youth and trying to discern how all of the changes happened; almost without our noticing - good work!


Michael Anthony

thank you so much!! I appreciate you reading and giving feedback :)


author comment

WOW! all the build up after you set the hook, is so suspenseful... and a slam dunk ending!!! I feel like I have been doused with a large pail of super cold water!! excellent writing! I was going to suggest you try to break the piece into verse stanzas, I think it reads best as it is! I Love the ending...

*hugs, Cat

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And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

thank you so much!! I am so grateful for you all reading my work and offering feedback. It makes my day!!


author comment

with Micheal and Cat; this brings to mind, the finding of old writings and pursuits from my childhood. There are few of them left, but my mother had saved some of the things that I had written for her and a couple of art pieces that I gave her for birthdays or Mother's Day. I look back on them, with some wonder and amusement. Mom's gone now, and things have changed; same as I have. I agree that I this is nicely done. ~ Geezer.

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author comment
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