This Room

I'm back in this room, the walls painted with memories. The wallpaper is ripping as it watches me try to glue together the pieces of the girl I've been trying to be. A countdown and a goodbye. I remember when I was here last and I remember the last time. But it pains me to sit here and think of that one night. Heart break must be bad when you resort to writing poems. And if you're reading this dear, I just hope you know. I choose not to speak with my pen because I fear I will trip over my words, the poet doesn't studder because through heartache she has learned. I recall this room, I knew it once before. But since you left, it's become brand new. Since you've been gone its dissapeared, the room's eery lore. I'm back in this room, but not one part left the same. Even the door has become so different. But you will never change.