Prompt: Describe a bedroom from your past in a series of descriptive paragraphs or a poem.
It was my perfect aesthetic
not a long-held dream fulfilled
but a dream of the present moment
It was freedom of expression
in a naive teenage world
of white walls and muted trim
The blue stripe that traced the room
hip-high for taller folk
was exactly eight inches thick
I know because I measured
when I painted it myself
Above the stripe remained fresh and clear
below the stripe, an adventure
the sponging of blue and orange
yellow and green and purple
in a pattern just haphazard enough
to prevent madness
It was the room that a young child
would feel at home in
the child within my soul
bright colors inviting imagination
vibrant and energizing
a safe space to be any
and every version of yourself
A room designed for refuge
where I sewed homemade tops
quilted t-shirt blankets
and wrote my first song on guitar
the haven I could return to
after a long day of school and work
A room that carried secrets
as I sampled different dreams
ambitious
uncertain
impatient
but wary
In a way, it’s a gift
that I’ll never reenter that house
never have a chance to revisit that room
It is now free forever to live its best life
from the comfort of vivid
memory