muse:connections

it's been a long day.

muse:
my room is chaotically organized--books on the floor, a backpack in the corner. clothes are everywhere, some systematically and logically in a laundry basket, others just haphazardly hanging off my bed. the covers themselves, though, are neatly organized. my phone sits, lonely on the nightstand. it's accompanied by my glinting, leering ipod, its mate (the coiled headphones), and my black wallet. they rest in slightly uncomfortable companionship. a shirt, gently kissed by the sky lays hastily strewn on my bed. it's the same thing you wore, i can recall. you wore a shirt exactly this blue. my heart jumps a little, thinking that you've been here. but the feeling leaves as swiftly as it came, as i realize that it's only my shirt. i step slowly towards it, and take the sleeve quietly in my hand. raising it to my nose, i inhale deeply and close my eyes. i don't exactly know what i'm expecting--it doesn't really smell like anything. but then again, i can't smell my own scent (was i hoping for yours?) in the ocean of the odorless musk of me.