I'm no beauty queen
and I chopped off my hair to make sure
everyone knew that.
The ash from the tip of my burning cigarette
is the same dark, grey color of my lungs-
and I like it that way.
There's a hole in my black tights but
I wear them with my red dress anyway.
I'll slap on some lipstick and take a few pills to
fall back down the rabbit hole.
The best part is
I won't remember why my
two dollar mascara ran down my face.
So I won't regret a single thing.