
I can't remember the last time I slept naked.
I can't remember the last time I slept naked.
With warm sheets and soft blankets, wrapping me in a womb, while the fan blows in my face.
I can't remember the last time I slept naked.
With him holding me like a child clinging to a teddy bear never wanting to grow up-
forgetting the magic of imagination.
Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee and bacon on the stove,
bringing me back to cold winter morning in a place that I can no longer visit.
I am not able to rewrite my memories.
I am a typewriter, bulky and outdated-
Loud and challenging,
lacking the ability to edit my past.