I'm a mess,
A tangle of long dark hair
Circling my throat.
Whether it's a necklace or a noose
I do not know.

I'm a mess,
A flutter of wings
Pressing out from my ribcage.
Whether it is a soft warmth or a forest fire
I do not know.

I'm a mess,
A thumb rubbing circles into my palm
Air leaving my lungs.
Whether the breath comes back
I do not know.

I am a mess
I cannot fall for you
Because that is all it would be,
Falling.