Liz Taylor once said:

"Pour yourself a drink,
put on some lipstick and
pull yourself together."

I stopped believing in the positive power of alcohol
when I saw the struggle in my
70 year old great uncles bloodshot eyes
the time I caught him at 2 am
reaching for the whiskey in the top shelf of the cabinet

I apply lipstick every day
all crimson scarlet blood pooling on my breath
all dripping cherry popsicle
all lip stains on your neck and pillowcase
all red on red on red

I can't ever seem able to pull myself back together
Like stitches coming undone on a wound
Like egg shells cracking on hardwood floor
I stopped trying after 3 years of puzzle pieces
These days I make sure I never fall together so I never fall apart

Summer raining on the Eastern seaboard
I liked you better before November, personally

There are metal shards floating in this bathwater
Their own tiny islands of pain
A mirror in shards face up on the floor
Guess that is just another 7 years of bad luck

Pennies are dropping into the bathtub
Copper going plink plink plink
Tiny rivulets running their paths

That's just the sound of my lifeline going down the drain, again
Smells like metal and tastes like pain
Red river gushing from my veins

Locked door trying to staunch the flow of secrets
Head swimming to the tile floor
clink clink clink

Scars these days open so easily
Like the Raven said, Nevermore