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.