My room's talking about me...

As you walk in her room, the mirror awaits her.
As she stands in front of it, she hates the person staring back at her.

When she falls to the bed; the only place she belongs,
She looks up at that picture that has kept her going all this long.

As the music begins to roll,
It takes her back to her comfort zone.

Always playing those songs that take her back to that place in time,
Leaves tears streaming down so quickly upon her face...

As she curls up with her orange named blanket,
It keeps her comfort like she once felt it.

From the books upon her shelves,
You infer she likes to read...

But are those just something to distract you from her feelings?
Not even they could begin to explain.

When all the clocks begin to speak to you,
All they can say is, "It's still not over yet.."

.:..paige maureen..:.