Some days
I am a mess
Consisting of red lipstick
And nicotine teeth
Of black dress
Drenched in whiskey
Alcohol fallen from shaking hands
Crumpled white bedsheets that
Barely cover skin
Not knowing how to keep anything warm
Only knowing
How to look good against glow from morning sun
Sometimes
I am disarray
Most times
I am out of place
And even further out of body
But I
Am not looking to be cleaned up
I do not want someone
Who finds my disaster pretty
When it is anything but
I do not need someone
To try and mend something
That was broken to begin with
That has always been chaos
I am
Perfectly content
With the clutter
And I
Do not need
Fixing.