Junky

I wear red lipstick and it looks swell on me

Sometimes I kiss the mirror and go

And sometimes I wait until at least fifteen friends tell me I'm beautiful

From the other side of the screen

I like it better when I wake up with eyeliner on from last night

And my lips are tinted like I've eaten a cherry Tootsie Pop

Not overdone, but more vibrant than a regular person waking up on a typical morning

Reach over, read one Dickinson poem

Then take a white shirt off of a hanger

Arms first and then my head poking out like a turtle

And don't you DARE get leftover makeup on this shirt

Because it'll show like a billboard

My New Years Resolution dictates I should wear a skirt and pumps to look classy or that I've tried

But I haven't, so jeans it is

And sneakers with an inch lift carefully sewn in

Because I'm short and otherwise I can't reach the Pepsi at 7-Eleven.

On any given last night I was at a concert and fell asleep checking my online profiles

Nothing happens and I always go home alone

Dolled up and my face killing all the spoken-for bags of meat with foot-stomping partners

Today though, I was pumping gas and a crooked old man twisted with age told me I looked beautiful and I should keep my chin up because things would get better.

I wondered how he knew

That was the day I started noticing the sky and buying books in bookstores with broken spines

I don't look at my feet as much

And I write twice as often

I want more

Give me more

Just a little bit

Please