I made a room out of sadness
filled it with picture frames
of arguments I refused to let go
A tear stained sofa
that was meant to welcome guests
Is now where my past
has overstayed its welcome
Hanging on the walls
is a picture I drew
of a memory called happy
And on the coffee table
sits an old phonebook
of people who promised
to stay in touch
This was only supposed to be
a guestroom where I allowed
my chaos to visit from time to time
But somehow the boxes of anxiety
have piled up
and the monsters
have found their way
under this bed too
Even my safe place has become haunted by me