I am the Housekeeper
If you took a look at my house,
from the outside you would say it looks quite perfect.
It’s a quaint and simple, yet oddly specific home,
wherein each of my belongings has an obvious designated location in which it remains.
There’s one room in my home however, which is my least favorite,
yet the one where I find myself spending the majority of my time.
The room is constantly being filled with more and more nonsense each day,
despite my valiant effort to find a place for everything,
and my goal of keeping it there.
While inside, you aren’t able to see your feet on the ground.
And the natural light which would normally shine through the glass window is obscured by the mountainous mess of my creation piled against the walls.
One singular bookshelf occupies the biggest yet otherwise barren wall in this room.
Yet the periodic rumbling of the floors keeps anything from staying on top for too long.
As soon as things begin to fall they are quickly replaced by more things.
Usually whatever I can find laying around from days past.
If you’re lucky enough to be let in while I’m attempting to tidy up my room,
you’ll find me running about,
while scrambling to pick up each and every artifact in sight.
Don’t be gracious in asking to help however,
as you may soon find yourself getting lost in the chaos that is
my room.
