In My Room

In My Room

Alone in my room,
Fan blades spinning,
Pictures grinning
At me from my walls.
Amid collections
Of penguins and ponies,
Scattered works of literature,
Sticker-covered binders,
Purses on closet doors
And necklaces hanging in neat rows.
This is where I feel at home.
Shift the clutter on my desk,
I move aside plaques and pictures,
Statues and newspaper clippings,
Revealing pink plywood:
AKA my desk top.
There’s a magazine rack full of books,
Piles of fuzzy slippers,
A wooden carousel horse,
And the floor needs vacuuming again,
But –
Amid the scarves and sculptures,
The artwork and the archives,
Novels and novelties,
Lying still in my crowded bed
Under soft covers,
I am truly me.