Messy

With an element of tease
on top of a righteous taunt,
she called him a “Messy Bitch,”
as evidenced by all his petty grievances.

I chuckled,
nodded in agreement,
then began to ponder,
what it means to be a mess.

Words that resonate,
words that tickle,
words that cut,
often provoke a reaction,
but upon more reflection
offer great wisdom.

Messy is a good word
to describe this chaotic world,
of which I am a small part.
It attests to the hidden motivation behind
– my need to fix,
– my need to organize,
– my need to control
my life –
and the anarchy surrounding me.

Deep in my psyche
is the profound fear
of a messy death.

---

This poem was written on September 27, 2025.