I’m looking at this mess beside my bed and I’m thinking: if I were to die today, in a heap on the bathroom floor, this is what I’ll leave behind. This will be my kids’ inheritance, they’ll have to clean up my mess, and their own. Serves them right for all the socks on the floor and dried cereal in bowls.
It’s an amazing trick i do;
i clean up the signs of aging in my sink,
in the bed, and all over the house.
And yet somehow i still convince myself
that i’m the same as i was ten years ago.