Smothered

The mess on my floor
grows more and more
each day
and I do not attempt 
to correct it

My mom asks me
multiple times
before turning her request
into an order

I try 
but something stops me
every time I begin 
I halt
before the job is halfway done

I just don't see the point
of cleaning 
what will soon
become dirty again

As I try again
to pick up the laundry
and put it away
I imagine
that the mess grows
and covers me

I flail and kick
trying to stay afloat
but I am dragged down
by sweaters and coats
that I never picked up

They cover me
smother me
pull me down
to the depths of my room
where I finally drown

My room 
becomes my tomb
and I never finish cleaning
but it doesn't matter
tombs aren't clean anyway