bed

only just realising how many memories are held in this same bed
the friends who've stayed over
and all the books that've been read
how many cups of tea have been consumed
dreams spent
or sleepless hours
upside down
draining
diagonal bedsheets, rarely made after first placed
how many ideas have been birthed from my head
the words scrawled
suddenly upright
I forget what came before my bed's current home

I am trying to forge new memories
I am remembering and creating
I am imagining
I am talking about these plans
I am drinking several additional cups of tea
but forgetting to scrawl ideas
and forgetting upside down
too upright
current book is coming to an end
the pens I have left I don't like