03.08.09 / 11:01 pm

in the attic, empty save for boxes,
the articles of others' lives,
i am allowed space to regain self.
in that darkness, i am bright as the sun.

in the night, i sleep on these memories,
beneath a musty wedding dress, next to an armoire;
i imagine myself as another dull, discolored shape,
embarrassed at how little effort this takes.

my nails and hair grow long,
and i no longer remember how i looked before;
i am without knowledge of myself
beyond the most basic of animal desires.
i do not want, and thus am free.