The room with the red curtains







That room,
the one with the red curtains,
that never really looked red.
The one with the place in the closet where she had written her name,
and written it again.
the one with the holes in the walls from every picture she had liked
but changed her mind.
The one all her friends loved
but she never did.
The one she got grounded in,
and sneaked out of.
The she ran to
when she just needed to get away from it all.

None of that mattered,
neither did her friends.
She’d had them since kindergarten
they were always there.
When she needed them,
and when she didn’t.
When she wanted advice,
or just felt like hanging out.
They were the best friends you could ask for
yet she found herself not caring about them at all.

She seemed to not care much at all anymore.
She was moving away,
that is all that mattered.
She would never see her room, her precious friends,
or any of the the things she once cared about again.

She told herself she had to forget.
you will find new friends
she told herself
you will get a new room,
and you will love it just as much as this one.
There were many other things she could be angry about,
"this isn't so bad,
it could be worse."
she said aloud
looking out the bedroom window.
It was too late,
there was nothing she could do,
and that was that.

Moving
to god knows where.