hint

books, wine bottles, candles, beer cans under the bed, scarves of every shade, ceramic art made in art class, quotes of my favorites, "self respect goes unexpressed- i can not dream because i can not sleep" blue and one orange wall, hamper made of straw, bamboo sticks from china, old running and soccer trophies, brass bed frame, ash trays, old hiding spots for secerts, bottle caps, cds, tapes records, music, old photos, wax stuck to the floor

this is easy

for memories to come back into this cluttered room

it is easy on my mind and also for my body to move around those thoughts

i can hook onto moments that have stayed stuck, glued to my walls and that have been hung from my curtains

burn marks on my sheets have shown i was once careless. the large painted giraffe on my wall smoking a stick fills my mind when we took acid that day and i found you crying in the bathroom later with paint on your hands and as well as your face. i am unable to remember though if it was i in the bathroom or you. the wine bottles are now placed on the floor, there is no more room to fit them on my book case. i switched subjects, but eyes wandering every which way. the mind is not always easy with remembering things that have broke apart and have shattered in ones own room. but i enjoy switching to each object in this damn room. my mirror holds everything including my past figure, my past loves. we have all stared into that mirror once and we have all turned away from it. kaitlin once took a needle out and pushed it through my nose. forcing it until we heard the, pop. after the pop went the drunk but we quickly poured ourselves some whiskey and continued piercing each other. the others were on my bed passing the bowl around and bobbing their heads to music. my boyfriend walked in sipping out of the bottle of red wine and placed a kiss on my neck. he was my first love and took my innocence. my bed has never been the same since he left.i find myself sleeping in my parents bed when they are away. maybe it is guilt but we said we drink to guilt and will drown in it if we have too. so we drowned because it ended that summer when we ended up walking up those rocks hitting four hits of acid on our tongues. i remember i just wanted to lay in my bed and i wanted to feel the past in my bedroom but i was stuck, i now leave the door open. we painted my wall that summer bright orange the ugliest color orange but i wanted it, and you painted it for me. letting me sit write and drink what you brought me. we passed the joint around until the color orange looked like it was vibrating and until my writing became too strange for words. but still you made me read as loud as i could giving nods and walking over too again place and endless kiss onto my lips. when i drowned myself with my guilt, you left me. and i painted over half that wall with the color of brown. a lighter color of your skin. you visited me months laterand shook your head. telling that it does not earse what is underneath. my people walk into my room and exhae as if we all knew what happened that summer as if we are unable to let it go. but i see that i am unable to let it go, because i walk into this home and i sink, i start drowning again. and i look at you and ask when will this end. you just shook your head and again said you can not erase what is underneath.

i left it at that