twenty-two

today i entered a room,

it was a comfortable room.

it was a familiar room.

it had the same tables that i used to write poems on
it had the same chairs
the pen was in the same place i left it in.

my old room.

it still smelled like tea and musky guy's perfume
it smelled like floral soap and newly ironed towels.

the bed where i cried so much in was still there.
nothing changed.

i laughed so loudly-
i heard an echo

i thought i lost

years ago.