Thursday, July 10, 2014

Making a Mess

She’s all over my thoughts,
She’s all over my brain,
She builds it,
She wrecks it,
I let her.

I stumble through it,
I make it through it,
I trudge, I shuffle,
I sway, I duck, bob, and

I spill my ashtray,
I spill my drink,
I stare off into the
lost distance of

I made a mess,
I clean it but the
mess still remains
no matter the wash,
no matter the scrub.

There’s still a mess in
here. It’s just not clean,
it’s just not easy, it never
is. Why should it be?

Watch your step,
mind the mess,
the puddle,
the crud,
the curls of my frown.

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