Messy.

I'm pouring out

my soul

and you're looking for

paper towels

because instead of

beauty

you see

a mess

that needs

cleaning; 

a weed

that needs

uprooting;

a rickety cog

that just

needs

a little

oiling.

You miss

the message

in the the pain;

the flowers

thirsting 

for water;

the square

part

trying to

function 

in a round 

machine.

And now,

I fear,

I feel

that much

further 

away.