Chipped nail polish
And
Bruises. Bruises made of my own design.
Peeled skin, black and blue around my fingers,
Around my wrist,
Checked my pulse too many times to hope it’s not there.
I am a mess
Straight up, dressed in black,
With a painted-on face and
A will that refuses to break.
And my nails
Cut into my palms
Trying to hold back the burn in my throat
That threatens to release the dam in my eyes.
And I smile,
I smile anyway,
Maybe just to prove that I can still do things
Like smile.
Say I’m fine
Because in the end I am
Always am
Always turn out to be.
And
Bruises. Bruises made of my own design.
Peeled skin, black and blue around my fingers,
Around my wrist,
Checked my pulse too many times to hope it’s not there.
I am a mess
Straight up, dressed in black,
With a painted-on face and
A will that refuses to break.
And my nails
Cut into my palms
Trying to hold back the burn in my throat
That threatens to release the dam in my eyes.
And I smile,
I smile anyway,
Maybe just to prove that I can still do things
Like smile.
Say I’m fine
Because in the end I am
Always am
Always turn out to be.
So I calm the calamity that is my brain
And make myself take a deep breath
And I begin the process of piecing myself together again
For the millionth time.
And make myself take a deep breath
And I begin the process of piecing myself together again
For the millionth time.