Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
I don't believe in having a clean room. I don't believe in having a perfect complexion, or always having the right thing to say at the right time.
Because for me, beauty is in the chaos of everything.
Those times when people get home so drunk that they leave on their clothes and don't take off their makeup. They wake up with crinkled hair and a messy look on their face, confused. When people are in their most innocent state, so completely consumed with a feeling that everything else fades. When they aren't trying to be someone their not, not trying to keep up the facade of being the person with a clean room and a made-up bed. The people who are crying so much that there's spit and tears everywhere, but keep on crying. I fall in love with people in their most chaotic moments, because those to me are the beautiful.
Alexis Rose
Written by
Alexis Rose  Some preposition; bed
(Some preposition; bed)   
  905
       Ryan Hoysan, ---, Michaela, Kiamm, Cecil Miller and 5 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems