A Room

(dedicated to Scarlett)

One’s personal sadness would be inappropriate for the room.
Madness, on the other hand, can fit better,
and scatter about better, eventually more compatible with
others, the poster, kitchen towels and goblets,
the corner couch.
What is a room?
A friend thinks it’s utterly indifferent of you to inquire for details when she complains. Some details
are just not important,
plus the timing is wrong.
It almost feels like you are dodging the moment of empathy as you would avoid a certain spice,
but you don’t hate the spice.
You don’t really care about spice (well maybe you should).
You have regressed a little from earlier conversations, yet
every night you lie in the dark, wondering if
the nice room is still there and if you still are qualified,
like a teenager.
A nice room is a space where one can complain
and not be embarrassed.
It is too quiet for you to stop thinking that you don’t play here.