i own a mess. maybe it owns me. either way, it exists.

every day, every hour, every minute, it grows larger and darker and wilder, the accumulation attracting even more filth like flies.

i pretend it doesn't exist. i make sure no one else sees it. it's ugly and shameful and embarrassing--so i started to push it under the bed one day. a little nudge here, a little camouflage there--who notices when it becomes a shove? only i can, but not if i deceive myself. so clever like that.

there's this dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach warning me that one day it will all come spilling out--and finally everyone will see the full extent of the mess i've made. even i.

* * *
"Mess" ~Ben Folds Five

there was a time when i had nothing to explain
oh, this mess i have made
but then things got complicated
my innocence has all but faded
oh, this mess i have made

and i don't believe in god
so i can't be saved
all alone as i've learned to be
in this mess i have made

all the untested virtue
the things i said i'd never do
least of all to you
i know he's kind and true
i know that he is good to you
he'll never care for you more than i do

but i don't believe in love
and i can't be changed
all alone as i've learned to be
in this mess
i have made the same mistakes
over and over again

there are rooms in this house that i don't open anymore
dusty books of pictures on the floor
that she will never see
she'll never see that part of me
i want to be for her
what i could never be for you

but i don't believe in god
so i can't be saved
all alone as i've learned to be
in this mess i have made