It won’t be me

You won't find me drunk
on the floor wailing
to be loved
a mess near the door
scratching at the stubs
of long dead cigarettes
drawing with their soot
a trail of maps
under nails and fingers
mascara dried and flaking
on cheeks bright red rubies
scarlet blood thinned with tears
lips bejewelled pink
waiting to be kissed
and rescued from a heap
of disheveled needs
asking for promises
with broken smiles
Nodding to lies
sleeping fitfully

Dip dip

Sear off these eyeballs
Or I'll gouge them out
a painless pain
be far better
than the dripping bits
streaking my face
with Rorschach hearts