there is a man in my closet
or at least there was one
he left all his clothes behind and there's no trace of him
its weird finding a strangers clothes in your closet
and yet we dont feel like strangers
you can learn a lot from someone based on the clothes they wear
i feel like i know so much about him
his favorite bands
what tv shows he watched
where he traveled to
what sports he played
what clubs he was in in high school
his clothes still smell like him
dont think i was smelling a strangers clothes
the wardrobe reeks of him
his clothes spill out of the closet
they taint the world outside where they were kept
i see traces of him everywhere now
who was this man
who seemingly left his life behind
and dropped it all in my closet
i feel sort of like I know him
like a childhood friend or a neighbor a few too many houses down
its weird to think he may have grown up in the same place as me
and yet we've never met, never will meet
i will not know of him
except I can piece him together by the fragments of what he left behind
the essence of a man
left behind in my closet