My confusion could be simplified
through careless exemption
in the sense of letting a deep cut heal
save the stitches
a curious thing left open beneath
a layer of textured, delicate skin
my topical treatment
of words from others full
of hopeless affection
and their eventual happy endings
and alcohol
**** the pattern of young humanity
I’m afraid even in the arms of
new friends
I would still remember old warmth
I would still hold myself closed
and fall open to infection.