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Donald Johnson

I am a mess.

Two poems written by Jennae Cecelia from her book The Moon Will Shine For Us Too.



I do not own pajama bottoms

or tops.

And half the week I forget to 

take my makeup off.

I drink black coffee

out of mugs that say, "cat dad.” 

Or plain old jelly jars revamped.

I run barefoot down the street 

and never properly dress 

for the frigid temperatures,

but complain about said temperatures.

And I will catch myself saying,

“I am a mess.”

And then I remember,

no, I am me and damn. 

I love that..



Maybe I am messy.

Like unmade bed sheets

in the morning.

Red wine spilt on 

the white carpet

at your mother’s house.

Hair thrown in a bun.

But oh how I create in the mess.

Messy spaces lead to beautiful creations.


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