new, warm, cozy
became
threadbare, faded hope
that -- with each wash --
became weaker.
i held on until the holes caused blisters,
and regrettingly disposed of my
tattered protection.
barefoot, i feel everything.
what kind of socks walk all over **you?

Today,
I swallowed down
my newest shade of lipstick,
in hopes
of bringing some colour
back to my soul again.