This Time

I am sitting in the bedroom of my 2nd apartment

Thinking about how when I moved here a month ago I thought I had escaped my monumental emotions

Things would not be stressful, never be as depressing as the last room

After all, this room has windows now

So I can let the sunshine in, even when I feel bleak

Even in the bedroom of my first apartment I remember thinking, “this room will be better”

Because it isn’t in a small town

Because no one will yell at me for how I choose to arrange it

Because it is mine, I pay for it, I prayed for it

Eventually I got sad, eventually the same demons I played with before found me

Eventually the room fell into clutter, disarray, smelled like weed and perfume and Febreeze

I don’t smoke in the new room

But it smells stale sometimes, carries the memory of nights where the dark seemed impenetrable

It seemed fruitless to try to fight back

Isn’t there a saying

“Wherever you go, there you are”

I am here

I am still

I am a microcosm of things that have gone wrong

Insidious sadness and melancholy hope

I want it to be different, this time.

poems I reviewed and enjoyed:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/y91w2m/the_things_that_keep_me_alive/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/y903z2/reflection/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf