I miss the little room 

That sat between me and her because 

 

Now that it’s gone, I cannot remember 

How it ever existed. 

 

She’s here all the time now, my new permanent roommate.

She painted the walls black and blue with her bare hands.

And then she becomes a part of me.

 

Nowadays, I am afraid of darkness. 

I run every time the black blots the edges of my paper, like a plague 

 

It spreads so I rip and tear 

 

Get out get out get out. 

 

I think this might have something to do with 

The great dragon that has come down 

 

From the sky, 

 

Bringing with her a farmer’s yearly rain 

 

Regardless of whether the crops 

Have come into fruition. 

 

At night 

 

When the wild things 

Creep and crawl 

 

That’s when the gruesome truth ensnares me-

You, 

Through the looking glass

shed tears 

Why 

 

I turn on the lights, and I sit staring 

Into the sky 

 

For a glimpse of my sun 

 

But even when she does come out, 

 

She’s half undone, encircled 

And broken and 

 

Chained

 

Oh, how I used to love the rain 

Now I silently scream in pain 

 

For it comes down on me like all of heavens’ wrath 

And leaves me uprooted and slammed deep down into the unforgiving earth. 

 

Come 

 

Succumb 

 

My succulent has been straining towards the light, but its petals are shriveled and wrinkled, 

 

Now a series of overlapping, gnarly thin textures that resemble more a huge dust mite. 

 

Like me, it now cowers from the day 

 

Underneath the comforter 

Unable to come out.