Purple Walls

I started writing this about two years ago and it has just been sitting collecting dust, as it is I'm not to sure about it, I know it needs a lot of work so any help would be nice. The flow is a little rocky in some places and I also think that it may need another stanza or two, but I don't know. I don’t want to just give up on it and trash it though so help is appreciated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I feel so out of place,
here among my possessions.
These purple walls are so familiar,
yet so foreign to me now.

The faces in the photos
all stare at me with blank expression.
When did their eyes become so far away?
When did their smiles get so dull?

Some things missing,
but I don’t know what.
Where did all the love go?
What happened to all the joy?

This room is haunted
by acts of pain,
suicide notes,
and razor blades.

This is not a room,
it’s a prison.
And here I am
locked behind its bars.

All light is drained out
and no color remains.
All that’s here is black and white
with little droplets of red.

I actually really liked the flow of this, right up until the last stanza. I'm not entirly sure what's wrong with it though. (So helpful I know). I like the idea of returning to colour (or the lack of it) but not the execution. Try working on that and see what you come up with.

Also, I didn't like the lines about suicide notes and razor blades. I don't have any expierience with that kind of pain, but it strikes me as something more immidiate than the gradual fading the rest of the poem seems to be describing. Maybe that's just me?

Anyway, thank you very much for sharing this beautiful piece.

beautiful poem in all honesty.... love the title.....Purple Walls

I feel so out of place,
here among my possessions.
These purple walls are so familiar,
yet so foreign to me now.

So true of me as well

The faces in the photos
all stare at me with blank expression.
When did their eyes become so far away?
When did their smiles get so dull?

Kodak moments

Some things missing,
but I don’t know what.
Where did all the love go?
What happened to all the joy?

This room is haunted
by acts of pain,
suicide notes,
and razor blades.

Interesting look at the prison of a room where this happened

This is not a room,
it’s a prison.
And here I am
locked behind its bars.

All light is drained out
and no color remains.
All that’s here is black and white
with little droplets of red.

OMG powerfully stanza

Hey There -
Sorry this is so rushed - Im out of time! But had to say how incredible this was.

This room is haunted
by acts of pain,
suicide notes,
and razor blades.

This is not a room,
it’s a prison.
And here I am
locked behind its bars.

LOVED THIS. such imagery. such feeling.

Doesn't need a whole lot... Just a couple of bumps and slight bruises - but not to worry - they blend in.

Great job,davantageous, keep it up.

Best Regards -
IamHathor22