Her room looked a lot like her mind And if you knew her, you knew that. It was chaos, while others said, “it’s symbolic” Symbolic of the chaos I suppose Like her mind she knew where to find all that was tucked away She knew where the secrets were buried, and could tell you exactly where to find them She never would So they’d look at it and tell her, “just clean it” While she’d look at it, the mess she’d created of not only her mind but her life I suppose And tears would stream down her face, and she’d will herself to, she’d shove the mess in closets, and corners, and under the bed. And just like the mess in her room, her secrets would get shoved deeper in the closet of her soul And she’d them to go away And to everyone else it did The mess was gone All that was left was her own sad secret song and the only one left to see the mess was her