My bedroom is a trunk
walled by wood and cement box
This small space is where I sat
from the morning through the night
Sometimes it becomes the beach
and the ocean is what I see
And other times it is all happy
the scenery is something free
But most of the time it is just me
and the color is darker grey
All I see is past mistakes
A blank future that has no end
Have you seen a room of hate?
it's cold but burns
It burns the care

Spanking and biting
Tying me to the bedframe
You make pain pleasure

It was in my room,
Surrounded by words written in cherry red lipstick,
Screaming hopelessness in the choppy handwriting all the tortured seem to share;

It was in my room,
With half drawn photos of my mother and a dusty guitar that played memories from the time before and the times in between, like a lullaby that haunted me to sleep;

It was in my room,
With the ceiling stained by tobacco smoke and the smell of depression clinging to the ***** bed sheets;

It was in my room,
With the photos hanging off the wall,
Half-torn from the night of lonely desperation;

It was in my room,
With sheets draped over the curtains,
Hung there in a feeble attempt to pretend the sun didn't exist anymore;

It was in my room,
That my shadow got tired of following me and instead swallowed up my mind,
Where the birds sang me to sleep and the moon gently woke me,
Where a day became a thousand years and after a while even God forgot I was there;

It was in my room,
Where I scrubbed the walls clean and painted the ceiling,
Where I pulled the sheets off the curtains and opened the blinds,
Where I threw out my cherry red lipstick and my ***** bed sheets,
Where I finished the drawing of my mother even though the nose will never turn out quite right,
Where I cleaned the guitar and sang to my soul with a new found reverence,
Where I asked the birds to wake me and the moon to tuck me in,

And after all that was done,
It was where I finally opened the door.

you see me with a smile
on my face and
making sarcastic remarks.

i must be perfectly okay.

yet im still thinking about 10 minutes ago,
when i was letting my pillow
soak up all my tears.

i was the girl laying on my
bedroom floor,
the same song on repeat.

tears come and go,
but the pain lingers.