“The chaos in your room reflects the mess in your head,”

My momma always told me.

Nowadays, golden rings

line my mugs,

books litter the floor,

papers like stepping stones

in a path to the door, my favorite

sweaters their own Mount Everest

next to my bed with its

knotted mess of sheets.

“Maybe if you cleaned this mess up,”

My momma always told me,

“There wouldn’t be one in your head.”

The End

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