Hidden Things

The mattress has slid, a gap now revealed,

crumpled receipts, their stories concealed.

Once a promise, now a ghost in the dust,

a night spent in shadows, where secrets combust.

I pull at the fabric, uncover the past,

a slip of regret, how long will it last?

That inked invitation, a dance to forget,

dragged in the silence, a weight with no debt.

What else lies between? A dream or a fear,

a whisper of laughter, a memory near.

It sits in the shadows, in creases and seams,

and I wonder if cleaning unravels my dreams.