i taste like skin and cranberry juice
my ankles are weak
and i have permanent bags under my eyes
from where i haven't had a good night's sleep in years
my lips are swollen
waiting for the kiss of somebody important
and my tongue is begging for something
strong enough to make me forget how to walk
sometimes i wake with bruises on my thighs
and no idea of how they got there
one day i might sing you a song and you'll say
i have a pretty voice
but not the kind that get's famous
my eyes are that color you feel
when you don't know who you are
and my hair has changed enough
for me to forget myself