Mess

My mind has a mind

Of its own

Unowned

By anyone

My principal

Principles

Disowned

By every one

My secrets

Biff the confines

Of my skull

To escape

My inward lust

Turns outward

To suck the life

Out of outliers

I am a can,

I am, of worms

Getting a headstart

On my burial

I'm unapologetic

For my angelic

Fall of Bad Angels

Into the abyss

How better is best?

How deeper is rage?

How best to be better?

How proud to be lost?

_________

Inspired (albeit tangentially) by @rlove327's "They call her fickle" (https://www.theprose.com/posts/spotlight)