Right outside my window sits Hell.

A building meant to be paradise.

24 floors of VIP suites and ghosts.

Left undone and barren and gray.

Support beams became a skeleton.

Concrete turns to rotting skin.

Looming high and dark above us.

Complimenting the storm clouds.

Right outside my window sits Hell.

I look left. The gentle light of the moon is pouring in through my window, bathing my dark room with a sleepy glow.

I look right. The light switch is a steady orange, sticking out against the black wall.

I look down. Layers of blankets envelope me, shielding me from the cold air. The faint glow of my phone shines upon my covers. I see green.

I look up. The white ceiling is barely visible in the poor lighting, but I see it clearly in my minds eye. It's a sight I know well.

I look ahead. Like the rest of my room, the wall is dark. I can make out the three boards that hang on it. The one farthest to the right is easily seen, with its white chalk markings.

I see a colorful sheet hanging down as if it were a wall

paper cranes lining the ceiling

and works of art hung all about

either up with tape or with pins

I see a light that changes color while spinning in circles

I see a reflection in the mirror

but it is not my own

I see green walls that touch white

underneath the layers

and layers of posters

I see the dream catcher she put above me because she knows

what comes to me when I sleep

I see my best friend sleeping

on a mattress on the floor

I see her start to move then

slowly shift and fall back asleep.

Miniature green plastic potty-IKEA

Empty Aardvark sauce bottle-Trashcan

Gold rimmed washbasin and pitcher-Dead Lady's Estate Sale

6 inch white crown molding-Dad's scrap pile

Water spotted copy of New York open to page 114-About to expire Delta Frequent Flier Miles

Hoop earring on the floor-Unknown Christmas

French clay soap-Reject box, Portland Saturday Market