I wrote �lucky� on the sole of my foot
to try it on for a change
to try and brand luck into myself
and if it worked I�d have tattooed it in

But I dropped my glass bowl
full of uneaten dinner
and stepped on a piece
and the blood ran over
the red ink
mingled with it and
destroyed the letters
as it stained my calloused feet with red

I retreated to my room
to nurse and dress my wounds
only to watch everything fall
from my desk in slow motion
all the relics
from the life i don�t actually live
a life of lipstick and nailpolish
a life of prettiness and composure

I scrambled to save them
until I realized my luck
was bleeding onto the floor
and staining my carpet.