Content with privacy as the day passes
By,
I’d imagine what life in the
Outside world
Would begin to look like,
Out in the atmosphere, changing
From salty to fresh, and
I watch as
The trees dress and undress themselves
With color
I remain in my dark room,
Smoothly painted walls, filled
With memory
It’s quiet
Free of remorse, and
Free of disruption:
From the slam of
The door behind my brother,
Free from the chairs sliding
On the wood floor, and free from
The others who talk constantly.
Now, my thoughts as clear as
Glass
I dream between the
Sheets, and
I am free
In my own space
In my own world
In my own room