Bathroom Rugs  

ground up emotions hit the floor
I can see them
just not feel them
I suppose there should be comfort in that
alas I know not of that word,
some say I do but I beg to differ


I run my foot over the sand like shit
"good riddance" dances in my mind
I turn to the mirror and smack the leftover tears off of my face
then grab the lipstick from my purse
deep mauve, I draw a broken hearts all over the walls
laughing would be to insane but seems appropriate

I take a step back to really see
but I'm blinded by stupidity
once again I walk away
not really understanding anything
not really reacting, pretty much aloof
oh fucking well sums it up
it usually always does