thoughts

45

the lonely room.

i enter my room as night time creeps up on the world. i stand at my door way and meet eyes with my bed and walls, knowing i'm going to spend countless hours laying here with a sore back, thinking of the utter loneliness soon to be engulfing me. the rain gives me a sense of comfort as i lay my head on the pillow i'm oh so used to. my sister tells me i constantly look gloomy. the thunder and rain picks up to be a physical embodiment of my mind and actions, gloomy. the more hours and days i spend in the lonely room i find that i feel comfort in it. i find comfort in the trash piling up on the bed side table. i find comfort in my uncomfortable bed. i drown out my thoughts with hobbies i no longer enjoy. even eating feels exhausting to me. i want so badly to leave the lonely room, but it's always there waiting for me when i'm ready to lay down. i cant sense the beauty in the well decorated room anymore. countless items and souvenirs i've gathered from memories of my life don't bring me the same joy they used to. the lonely room only brings me... loneliness now. the more time i let this monster of a structure persuade me into staying, the more my mind convinces me that i'd rather be alone. the lonely room bends and defects what time really means to me. one minute turns into an hour, then into a day. i don't even know how many days i have spent rotting away in this room. it's dark hands hug me as i sleep for too long everyday. i sleep all of my days away so i can spend more time in the lonely room. stepping outside seems selfish to the room. i know it prefers me to be here, so it can keep manipulating my mind. i constantly feel so exhausted and even moving my limbs feels impossible. why do i feel this way?