blurry bruises, trash

so i stepped inside a photo booth
prepared to immortalize it all
on a piece of tacky paper
printed outside a shabby stall

next to a garbage can
reeking of unwanted fast food that was
soaking into unread news,
the greasy drops poked with muddy fingers at
the world’s pain,
creating a blurry bruise

across the ink, i nudged and pushed
my eyeshadow back in place
out of the corners of my eyes
i caught one last look before i took
the flash of light that would trace

the contours of my features,
hollowing them out, digging
them into a scary skeletal muzzle,
holding my jaw and face in place
like a 16-count cardboard puzzle

Respond to blurry bruises, trash

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