The Beautiful Blue Room

Broken lights

on a straight line.

If everything feels like poetry,

why can't it feel good?

You promised it would be.

The green is all still,

music's up to the sky.

The dreary day is ending,

but misery just entered the room,

the beautiful blue room.

I sit in the middle of it

and look to my left.

The rooms all lit  up with blue shadows,

There stands an empty building across me- 

touching the sky, almost feels haunted

until people arrive-

the yellow lights from it blink.

The color changes

"How long can you call mistakes as they are until they become who you are?"

I ask the blue lights;

they look at me and shine just as dimly.

Scared to close my eyes,

When I do,

they open up to a new room- a bigger and emptier one,

I should be at peace but this is

a room I'm scared to enter,

a room of records playing distinct memories on a loop.

They make me so happy I start feeling sick.

The room keeps moving,

the beautiful blue room,

lights all around.

I see  the streetlights wait for dawn to arrive,

She hates the awfully quiet nights,

Quietly looks up to my blue room,

She smiles-

 Mistakes, rights to wrongs, blur away until there ain't nothing but blue lights.

A car passes by from around the corner.

I wonder where it goes,

the only soft break my mind gives me, really,

before holding my hand and pushing me gently—it caresses and pushes me into that room,

the beautiful blue room.

Are we all this alone at night?

Is it supposed to be bad

when it feels this good?

Am I wrong to sink into it?

into this beautiful blue room?

The lights are in me.

Am I—

am I the blue room?

*image sourced from Pinterest <3