Mattress on the Floor

Once a throne, now a bed on the ground,

a sagging reminder of dreams that have fled,

a breakup’s aftermath, love’s weight unbound,

where shadows of laughter now linger instead.

My reflection, a ghost in the glass, stands forlorn,

disheveled and weary, surrounded by mess,

clothes strewn like thoughts, dreams frayed and worn,

this mattress, my anchor, now feels like distress.

Each nightfall finds me in silence so stark,

the floorboards creak tales of what used to be,

cradled by memories that fade into dark,

I lie here alone, the ghost of us three.

Yet in this disarray, I seek to reclaim,

fragments of hope where I once felt so free,

for from this old mattress, I’ll rise up again,

a phoenix in shadows, re-learning to be.