The room I lay in is new can I 

Call it mine if there are no 

Abandoned canvases 

Rough with crusted-over paint, on the floor 

Dental floss   

Littered like artfully placed confetti                           dental hygiene adds years to your life  

The room smells like the house next door                

To where I used to live

The geriatric couple whose cat we watched before it ran away                                 or died 

Dust can choke 

Anyone if they’re lonely enough                                             

Beige dust                                                                                             it works faster than most

The room has beige walls 

They replace my dad’s bluetooth speaker

I can hear cabinets opening

A door’s arthritis-stricken hinges pulling closed

It’s unsettling                                                                                                         I am not alone

The room has cabinets

A desk and  a bookshelf

A girl and what she brought with her

In my mouth, there is a candy

Flavored like a bouquet of lemons 

The result of pure citric acid                                             corrodes my thoughts into dust