my bedroom


On the floor I focus on my breathing

all the times I have hyperventilated here

there is no problem so small that it cannot be solved by hey jude

eyes closed


the ceiling fan creates shadows that dance across my eyelids


my memories my presence destruction

pressed petals in the pages



my bed reminds me that I used to fear my pillow

how many tears did it absorb

this warm comfortable place where

fictional characters bled into my dreams


Did I give the life to this place it used to breathe so vividly

I wrote my secrets into the walls and trusted them to understand


paint is paint is layers of gray and only I know of the blue underneath


I have moved on and had firsts elsewhere


thank you