Room

I sit, lie stand
I pace the floor
The door closed, window shut
Only thoughts pass through the room
Upon entering they linger
Hung, suspended in the air for a moment
then exiting as swiftly as they appear

It is my place of solitude
In darkness
In light
I am alone, a way I prefer
Only my thoughts for company
Everything familiar
Bringing forth emotions once forgotten
It is mine, my own
It is my life in a box.

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About Christopher Eyles

Aspiring writer, player of video games. I write poetry, fiction and non-fiction including some life-based stories.
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