when you feel messy,
my darling,
i want you to think of it
less like falling apart,
and more like treading alone
in the middle of an ocean—
a metaphor i know you relate to
on your most average days
and on your worst ones

salt water waves
with the audacity
to dissolve the mortar
between all your bricks

turning you into pieces

and you’ve been taught
not to love or to be
anything less than whole,
so you feel messy—
you call it lonely,
depressed,
wrong

don’t worry,
you’ll find the shore
and you’ll rebuild yourself
this time like all the lasts—
but that’s not what
i want you to think about
right now

i want you to take a moment
right now
in the middle of the ******* ocean
dissolved
disassembled

look at your pieces

and love every one
for the buoyant miracle
that it is

because you—
you aren’t messy
and you haven’t fallen apart

you’ve been shown
what you’re made of