Mess

She was still watching, you know,
ghost in the crowd, slipping through cracks in the windows.
She was thinking you don't look like you belong here at all.
And you don't.

And you'd remember
darkness and distance were all that you'd give her.

Too bad they were lovely dreams.
You came and made a mess of things.
The bluest eyes she's ever seen staring
and you're still making messes.