The Yellow Room

When I am really sad a yellow room is no place for me
It’s walls too yellow a hue
I’m afraid of what it’d look like to you
Skin burns with an itch I can’t scratch
A pain I can’t cut from me
It burns, it aches, it burns
My mind turns
It slips deeper and deeper
I can no longer keep her
From the light
NOT tonight
I have failed this sweet yellow room
Her bud withered in it’s bloom
Her light gone to soon
From this yellow room
May this day be the night
Where she turned off the light
Till another day, till she can say
“I am okay.”
She will stay
In the dark of the sad yellow room

Sam Ekstedt (she/her)

Sam is sophomore and aspiring author who writes in fiction for both short stories, poems, and is currently working on writing and publishing her first novel. She has always had an active imagination and a drive to collect and tell stories. She loves to learn about politics and history and most of her writing consists of interesting historical and politically tumultuous settings.