Four pale blue walls

surrounding my daily and nightly thoughts.
The light streaming in through the window
falls lightly upon a blue sheeted bed.
The faint smell of laundry detergent
and the dinner cooking downstairs
linger in the air.
The sound of a black and white cats snores
cut through the soft silence,
his pale, shimmering gold eyes
slowly closing in the dimness.
The familiar pages turn crisp and smoothly
between my fingertips,
the words filling my mind with vivid images.
My books contain my memories and thoughts,
hidden in different words and phrases.
The pages calm me
and bring me solitude in a messed up world.