Slumber Party

They all left me here.

In these walls,

below a stipple ceiling.

And much like the grass outside,

I keep growing.

I keep healing.

Have they forgotten me here?

It use to be a slumber party at home.

Much like the night, I keep quiet.

I keep writing this poem.

I keep the door locked but they have the key.

I hope they remember this street.

I hope they remember me.

I hope our time is not obsolete.

They know I am here,

Suffocating under the lumpy blankets.

I know they won't disappear,

They left all of their trinkets.

They all left me here,

Watching a ceiling fan spin from above.

Watching a TV just across.

Much like my neighborhood cat,

Without them, I can get lost.

Alone I slumber,

Not much of a party.

Only my thoughts and I wander.

A slumber melancholy.