Wipe the mirror on the bathroom door,
So it’s clearer that you lost the war,
A longing look, a stubborn stare,
The pills you took to make them care,
And a stranger’s name that you call home,
In shoes you couldn’t make your own,
As you tiptoed through that cautious crime,
In a cold room where you sold your time,
Until those four walls became a maze,
Where you got lost for days and days,
Hoping footprints might leave uncovered,
A world to pretend that you discovered,
As everything you took for granted,
Became the place your flag was planted,
Still you long for all that isn’t there,
And seek purpose in the midnight air,
Hoping someday someone will recognize,
The scream behind your hollow eyes,
And realize that you are so much more,
Than the reflection on that bathroom door,
But for now, just hold your head up high,
Say you’re sorry, swear you’ll try,
Expect a feast, but be content with crumbs,
And dance until the music comes.