This Is What It's Like Living In My Room

Surrounded by reminders of things
that really matter: nebulas
old books, dirty
laundry and tiny pretty things
peering like geodes out
from beneath clumps of old
dust; my room
a timezone
excluded from normal rules

(spacetime and priorities).

On my wall
there's a picture
of the only moon in the sky
called the moon.

The countless things
that live here,
microorganisms even, resonate
with the frequency that matches my heartbeat
when I am alone
but not lonely.

When I get home tonight
I will write pi
on my wall in my room
above my bed because today
I realized it is my final proof:

randomness leads to circularity,
that's something I must always remember, to be utterly sure of to keep
from feeling lost,
to keep my room
my moon
intact.



written yesterday,
for school.
this needs revision.