Mess is decadent for a while, at least
Then irksome, troublesome and woeful thereafter

So

I am so bored of you
so wrecked of another
so drastically planning
my escape

riding one great wave yet tossed
so silently into the unformed sand
marking its caress with scars and purple prints
a lesson

I have two more this week:
one a gaping burn from the oven tray
another half moon sits in the crux of an arm

the second was immaculate
conceived unknowing
half smiling but too wide by half again

I have fallen
it is more real than anything so far encountered
more true than anything they give me
a part of me unlike any other