Mess

I don't know what to say anymore,
or what to do either.
I sit on the edge of the bed,
shaking.

Head down, hands in the air;
a gentle violin playing I know not where.
I have almost given up.

In the background people scream celebrating the new year,
I frown cause I know I haven't lived the past year.

I know I'm a mess.
But I don't care.
I've found peace at last;
and the past has passed.