The clothes stay dirty and crumpled on the floor
The garbage is overflowing
The bed is unmade and in it lies a girl.

She’s been there for days
Possibly even a week or two

She looks around at the messy room in which she resides,
Sighs softly and lays her head back down upon the stained pillow

She’ll never leave her bed because it is her safe place
Dirty, smelly and unkempt, yet safe.

The days have passed at unknown intervals
sometimes moving swiftly carried by sleep
sometimes dragging on minute by dreadful minute.

Her family stopped calling
Nobody knocks on the door
She is quickly forgotten.

The pillow on which she rests her head
The dusty table
The garbage surrounding her bed
This is her kingdom

She rules over nothing
She is the queen of nothing
She is nothing
And that’s okay with her.