Alexipharmic (or, Now that's a little cynicism for you)

I pour my heart out like

a pitcher made of flesh

and it spills onto these pages

a stain made of ink, spread by word of mouth

I don't really mind

the mess,

the Chaos wrapped in bedlam inside disorder

or the push the woke shove

tipping an already wobbled Weeble.

It's the moth's effect

once the butterfly flies away

that damn resolution to talk it out

the make-up/break-up not quite donenesss

everything that goes into cleaning, goes into

cleansing the soul of hurt's dark humor

or the stubborn confetti of joy's party.

It's all the same:

a hangover from being punch-drunk on emotion

and in the end

it all winds up being bottled up again.

_____________________________

This one was actually published in Emerald Ridge High School's literary arts magazine ascent (Vol.7, 2007) under the title "now that's a little cynicism for you". I have no idea why, though I think the retitle helps mitigate some of the misgivings I now have about the opening/closing lines.