Mess

I'm a mess

I used to be so well-held-together, so cohesive

Now all I am is explosive, adhesive

Clinging loosely to every surface nearby, a sticky disaster

I make no real attempt to rebind my self, lying like a dismantled book upon the floor

My pages used to all be in a neat and tidy order, even those as yet unwritten

Today they make a wild collage on the floorboards, the blank pages are so much harder to find

I mix unevenly like a bad metaphor

Blurred edges to the point of indistinction