I started writing this way back in January of this year. I finally finished it not too long ago, in June. Honestly, the delay is very fitting considering the theme of this poem. It’s been a struggle to declutter my head and the detrimental negativity that’s clouded my life. I’m here. It’s getting better. More rooms are opening up for bigger and brighter things, and the anticipation is extraordinary.

Cheers.

I’m in need of some vacancy.

My mind has been too full lately.

My trauma hasn’t paid a dime.

He’s committing theft, amongst other crimes.

My tenants have tunnel vision.

Endless sorrow, that’s their mission.

Depression occupies the big suite.

Anxiety rests on the balcony.

Paranoia guards the front doors,

with desperation as its floors.

Joy has been begging to come in.

The other tenants simply won’t let him.

They fear he’ll set the house on fire,

and he will leave no survivors.

What can I do to sneak him in?

I’d light the match and start over again.

I’d have love stay in the big suite;

creativity on the balcony.

Aspiration guards the front doors,

with motivation as its floors.

Joy fills the air in every room.

Finally, my soul will begin to bloom.

The fire that caused death,

bore life.