A Safe Haven: Your Room

Another side, another story.
Look at something in a new view with open eyes,
like you’re observing it for the first time.
What do you see as you enter the room?

Shelves clothed in books and order, aligned alphabetically despite size or color.
Neatly placed sheets folded to fit the mattress perfectly, not so bright or vibrant in color but not so dull.
A serenely placed television sitting atop a dresser, free of dust or mold.
Someone who enjoys order and above all else a sense of control over at lest one thing in life.

A clutter of clothes plaguing the grounds very existence, unable to sense the color of the carpeting.
Bunk beds aligned in a side corner, opposite textures and different extremes of conditioning for them.
One side of the room full of darkness and a maxed out radio playing,
the other decked in vibrant rainbow posters and half opened magazines.
Someone who has been forced to share in life,
chaos spent with double personalities alike behind a hidden friendship that exists only from relation.

A solitary bed of dull grey hues and unused sheets of a moldy scent.
Nothing out of placed when nothing is all that it is, complete emptiness with lots of space.
It was a shoreline vast of shifting currents and lost driftwood, a place of solitude.
What but a lonely or busy life when naught but unable to sleep in your own bed?

A persons soul laid out before you with an open trust.
To see the side of this person when they aren’t with you.
A safe haven or torture house with bloody, binding bars that never seem to break.
What you make of your own room tells your own quality and characteristics,
your likes and dislikes along with your obsessions and self interests.
A soul easily seen by any eyes.