Dirty socks

crumbs in each crevice of my
purple sheets - each flower petal
that decorates my pillowcase

figures upsidedown
(on coffee mugs)

broken camera, hanging outdated
reminders.

Blue light against an old wrapper -
almost elegant.

books I've never read. And never
will.

For months. Maybe years. Maybe

i will die tomorrow --

Everything is leftover. Unimportant
Insignificant

like scraps of this fragmented self
that they say exists

(who are you, little i)

that you would do such a thing
as break apart
upon your very moment of birth?