If My Body Was My Bedroom :

If my body was my bedroom The windows would be my eyes With which I can see and be seen Letting in the light and the wind and the cold Reminders of the reality that surrounds me The floorboards creak with all my unyielding thoughts, That I continue to step over and ignore. Dust would gather atop the pile of procrastination the corners remaining loyal to the truth of my neglect The bed is softness and slumber. Dreamless dances still etched into waves of cotton. Tangled sheets smelling of nocturnal notions and grand schemes Curled up in the comfort of my own curiosities. And the walls are littered with fragments and framework All reflections of my mind and refractions of my heart Here in the quiet architecture of myself However cluttered or clean It stands as a place worth tending And worthy of being seen.