no, i'm not.

Him and you, in that room.
Windowless, but the dark was always
that side of not dark enough.
The spider webs held their own dewy glow
and the dust never seemed to
settle. The air was thick with this:
Dust and also your thoughts and lies.

Your fingernails at a constant state
of: dirty. And all the colors
you ever saw were black, gray and white.

And one day when the roof blew off,
and lead way to the hot blue flame of the sky,
you seemed to melt into it;
you made yourself a part of it.
Comical and yet beautiful like a teapot whistling.

And you hoped yourself better that day.

Him and you, in that room.
That boy with the broken cheekbones,
brown face and bright eyes.
You hoped yourself a part of him.