inventory of my room
empty box of XL bandaids
half full bottle of lamictal.
several glasses that once held iced coffees
layer of dust on the windowsill
hentai figure i rescued from an estate sale.
when i lay in bed and turn on my night light
the air conditioner hums
the piles of clothes cast amorphous shadows on the walls
the hentai figure gazes at me with a half-lidded sultry smile
and the bandaid box falls to the floor with an unceremonious thud
but it still feels peaceful
because it’s all mine