They say "your lipstick stain is a work of art", I chuckled and lightly smile. Looking deeply as I face my reflection, tears immediately fell down to say " No, my lipstick stain holds the immense pain and mourning of something that I couldn't voice out. It's the facade of my very existence".
YOU ARE READING
14 months
PoetryTo you my reader who accidentally land on this piece, may the stars be with you throughout, may moon light shines to pave your way in the vast northern lights.
