my bedroom walls are filled with framed art.
a desperate plea for me to get up in the morning,
to search for beauty that is replicated
inside the golden frames that cling to my wall.

and i tattoo pretty things
onto my arms
in an attempt to remind myself that there are
pretty things left in the world.

if i don’t remind myself with the tangible
i will forget about all the sweetness.
and i will never leave this sour.