Comfort?

Home is where the heart is... please be sure to read the author's note

A whirlwind of clutter

I stand in the middle

My trinkets surround me

 

An echo of comfort

I cannot relax

Strange, this place.

 

It's filled with 'me'

Stuffed with my things, yet -

I do not feel safe.

 

I cannot break here

Gleaming and unfamiliar

My room is not my home.

Author's Note

This poem can be read two ways. The first way is top-to-bottom, as you probably just read it. The second was is to take all the first lines and that makes a poem. Same with the second and third lines. Example: "A whirlwind of clutter/ an echo of comfort/ it's filled with 'me'/ i cannot break here."