The Blue Room

My bruises are yellow now, these walls are blue just like your bedroom i vaguely remember. I try not to think about those places, I try not to bring you here. I fear rotting here for years you were once all I had, this could be a new home if I gave it a chance, home like you once were. I fear change, I fear walking out of this room and being seen for what I am or who I may not be. These walls are blue. I like the sky, I watch the cars go by and I dream of being in one. I remember the sunset drives and the sound of your car radio easing away my anxieties about life, about what I did and didn't do and what I could say and didn't say. These walls are blue just like your bedroom a bedroom now replaced with the reality of you and I.