My words are messy.
My thoughts are messy.
The things I speak are messy and incomplete and offend and come out wrong.
My life is messy.
The things I do, the things I believe, don’t fit into a perfect little box and wouldn’t be understood by most.
I am messy.
The things I am, and feel, are a jumbled, mixed up clusterfuck of this and that.
But the things I know, well…I know them for certain. Filtering them, editing them out, or keeping them in doesn’t take them away. Because, when you know, you know.