There’s a lot of space, empty space.

Just a single bed that is in shambles.

Lighting is bright and hurts your eyes.

This carpet makes burns on your skin upon touching it.

The wardrobes stand tall up to the ceiling.

The walls are painted black.

And there is a window painted on one wall,

Looking out into the sunset as if there is a light of hope.

There is no mess, it is clean.

It smells of roses and citrus fruit, it clenches in your throat because it is strong.

Despite the cleaniless there is a stain on the ceiling, could be mould or a wet patch.

This room isn’t that broken, so there’s a chance that it can be fixed.

But looking at it now, the darkness, the cleaniless, the smell of hope:

Nothing is better than being alone.