I am on my floor
in a sweeping bow,
in an off-white gown
I am wet with my insides,
out
there is red everywhere,
little notes to myself,
some written in charcoal
black on my left hand,
my old eyeliner pen:

rehydrate often:
we are at war here,
darling.
and
don’t grin,
it makes you look
desperate
and
I am doing all of this for book.
and one more
(you always repeat the same story)

do not repeat the story.

“eyeliner” or “(notes to self)”