She stretches out on her bed
All rumpled sheet and scrunched up pillowcases
Junk litters the floor, some her's, some not.
Each item holds a memory
Even if she can't quite remember it.
It's only 9:34 but it feels like midnight
She wonders if it is real and what she would be like if it wasn't.
If she could go back and edit her way through her life
Fixing all the problems, taking back the words
The I hate you's and I love you's that were never meant to be said.
Meticulously rewriting the details
The misinterpretations that left her looking like a fool.
Her thoughts trail off as she drifts into sleep
And I know you can't deny it
You wonder if she would write you out.