i no longer feel the heartbeat of the bass coming from next door...the boy over there must finally be getting ready to sleep. in here, a soft glow is coming from my nightstand. my maroon bedsheets are tangled up in my quilted comforter. the book i just finished reading is lying, tired, on my black and brown checkered rug....clothing i was too tired to put away is draped over the back of my old green chair...a pea green t-shirt with birds sewn on; a skirt colorful with lotus flowers that reminded me of tattoos when i bought it; a pair of brown pants, worn and frayed at the bottom. still, quiet, calm...this little space, so full of memories and witness to such change, my home...makes me wonder about those who lived here before me...how they made this space home. beneath the white paint which i brushed over with hot flames and cool waves, are layers of color...creamsicle, light green, powder blue, oatmeal...each one part of a home that once was...a home where the floors didn't creak quite so much, the cracks in the ceiling didn't reach quite so far...someday, i, too, will just be one of the layers of color in here...