we had the blues while the city was on fire.

the scene, currently:

I am in a blue room with an orange painting that hangs to my left.
a dead, colorless rose, pinned to a wall with a frame around it.
last nights bottle of rum, sits lonely and forgotten

outside,
the city glows orange
from the fires
in the hills

its just
heat,
suffocation
and stillness

everywhere

but

we are inside this room
we are buried inside ourselves
we want to sleep
yet we are not awake

we're simply
just being

much like the orange painting hanging on the wall
much like the colorless rose, framed
much like the lonely and forgotten bottle of rum

we are all of these things
and then some.