Lost: One Sanctuary

I lost my sanctuary.
I think I forgot to pack it up
when I left home the first time.
It used to be
in the squishy corner
of my little twin bed,
tucked on the left side
of my afternoon-sun-
drenched bedroom.

Now I sit
on the right side of my room,
stretched out with the shadows
that lay across
my well-worn queen-sized bed.

Where did I leave it?
And why can’t I find it
again, now that I’m
back home?

Sanctuary no where to be found
pen stilled over blank paper,
its black blood pooling,
about the most creative thing
I’ve done lately.

I’ve destroyed my room
at least three times
trying to find
my lost sanctuary.
But I think it must have
felt abandoned
and wandered off
to some other owner.
A more caring one,
one who wouldn’t leave it behind
to follow a whim.

But that doesn’t change the fact
that I desperately need it back.
Lost: one sanctuary.
Reward: my happiness.