I like my room.

I like the blankness,

the smoothness of the walls.

I like the hollow echo

when I talk,

when I sing,

when I sob.

I like the wretchedness,

the emptiness,

the void.

I like being able to just get up

and leave nothing behind.

I like the promise of space,

the possibility of filling my space,

but just saying NO.



NO to material things

NO to emotions

NO to dreams and shoes

and cats and love.

To all I say: NO.



I like coming in;

hearing myself breathe;

seeing the cold reflected

in the black ocean of window.

I like the doors shut,

the promise of things better beyond,

but I'll never open them

and never be disappointed.

I like having no books.

I like no clutter,

no dust: I like nothingness.

I like the ice on the ground,

barefoot.

I like being in a box

only I can see out of.

I like feeling safe.

Alone is safe.

Here, I am alone.