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.