I feel the colors on my wall
those silent memories of mine.
In touch with the organized mess
I've surrounded myself with.
My finger tips glide and create
presents for me to look at.
Perhaps I'll share them
when I wish to see smiles
and connect with someone
while looking to listen
to the needs of beautiful people.
The taste of pizza
lingers on my lips
like my favorite lyrics.
Tomato kiss myself to satiation.
I'll moan in gluttonous relief.
I've got a library scattered
amongst my sheets,
smells of distant worlds.
Pages that take me
to perfumed forests and
putrid blood baths.
There's no need
for the sensory deprivation
that I've once endured.
Though lonely at times,
my room is true comfort
in solitude.