(no subject)

[mystarrules]

She got nicotine-basted
lungs
wasted thumbs
and one of them asphalt
tastin' tongues
she wakes up
to alarm
her make-up
is still on
and she can't remember
why she set the damn thing
her heart is a machine
art is meant to be seen
not felt
not heard
it's just paint
they're just words
and fingers are for feeling
fists are for beating
scabs are for healing
and blood is for bleeding
that's just how
I used to be
but I'm not even good at
being me
anymore.