Has changed.
The teen’s furnishes carried away.
All the contents from
the loft, closet, and dresser
are dumped all over the floors.

My parents fuss
about the dents, dings, scraps, and welts
that cover their surfaces.
Why, they ask?

Every dent and ding
a teen’s temper tantrum given form.
Every scrap and soda ring
a small reprieve
from the world all out to get me,
while you paid no mind.

Now the dressers are new.
The loft bed gone.
All the contents left behind,
obscure the floor.

Everything changes,
but soon change will not be so new
and all the contents on the floor
will find their place too.