My Room Used To... Poem by goldtooth grin

strange indeed
how incrementally it all changes
strange indeed
how incrementally a thing can break
and we can not mend it

seems like yesterday
my room smelt of laughter
indecent proposals and lack of candor
quickened breaths, crotch less undies
japanese movies and nuclear-sour candy
it smelt of heartbreaks and tears
then hope and the spring
and whatever young people
dream they can be

now look at the state
of my cramped little room
a bucket, a mop, a keyboard, a stool
and the scent that lingers
and falls down my lungs
is nothing like the pictures
I still smell in my mind
now it smells of unpaid parking tickets
and lottery lucky dips
bad bets, cold hands and lonely lips
it smells of cheapest black coffee
and disgusting yellowish gin
it reeks of my putrid heart
that pushed you away from me