Sanguinary

I get the feeling something's missing, as
I resort to another duct-tape fix. Hide
a contusion behind another layer of blush,
but meanwhile

Nothing's changed (except the outside).

No amount of alcohol will hide
the sorrow on my breath (just mask it
with whiskey)

and no amount of mascara will
keep the tears from coming (I'll just
be a beauty queen as they're falling)

Another slip of the wrist, and I'm
spelling out sanguinary
promises on the kitchen tile.
(It's old, and looks more
gray than white,
but then everything looks gray to me now)

Sanguinary promises,
but I don't think it matters
(there's no such thing as a vow that
won't be shattered, a papercut
is all that's left from the exchanged papers,
a papercut and a memory
that I'm already forgetting anyway)

Nothing's changed (except the outside)

The duct tape is peeling off,
and I'll need another solution soon.
The blush will come off in the shower, and
there's no mascara left now,
unless you count the stains on my cheeks
as mascara.

I get the feeling something's missing
(and I'm still not sure what)