i am a mess. so are you.

if you saw the well spring inside of me you
would be afraid.
my deep turbulent waves,
they are too much weight.
heavy in my own chest,
falling
and breaking and leaking
through
a pounding drum heart
splashing vivid orange and red
covering the open world, gray
and unprepared.
people watch they blink
and whisper
"absurd".
i just ignore.
bend down and mop
my sick mess
on the floor
and wonder how to stop the flow
that is so offensive
with no control.
why doesn't my heart stay quiet and neat?
why must it pulsate and leak?
those girls, they walk
with gentle smiles
coy eyes; tempered mild,
they pass by ---
.dry.
and me?
i hold all this
in my chest
the rest dripping from
my open palms
pours from my fingers.
exposed;
a mess.