Poetry

Lipstick Skeletons.

Lipstick Stains
On my cigarette filter,
Come here, Death
Let me kiss your cheek.

He used to say,
Darling, paint your pink plump flesh
With a smooth eggplant colour
He loved the way it brought out my eyes.

Today I use it, to seduce your way home
But you never come, just leaving me with stained lips.
I'll pucker up to coffee cups and mirrors
Leaving you everywhere I kiss
Just to have you linger around.

He used to say, you are smeared bright pink lipstick
An accidental exposure of flesh
The taste of wine and a tinge of gin,
Cigarettes in the black sky.

You are alcohol-induced numbness. Not needing a coat

You are a collection of wishes and stupid things
You might be clever,
Just like what I want you to be.

It was hard only being allowed to breathe through my nose.

Those strangers in your kitchen were nicer than you
They let me out
They told me there is a world beyond,
Beyond this high
Beyond superficiality
A world with just butterflies and leaves and innocence.
A real world where I can kiss freedom,
And would never have to settle for the ink on my collarbone.

Oh, darling, I Loved you
I loved every inch of you
The way water trickled down your every curve,
The way you fill my voids with every word.

I wasn't going to kiss you goodbye
I wish I hadn't.
Now you hate the lipstick,
And every time I wear it, you only see a slut in it.

Lipstick Stains
On my cigarette filter,
Come here, Death
Let me kiss your cheek.