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Your lipstick stain is still printed on my pillow case.
We passed out watching movies, late at night.
You forgot to take your makeup off.
And when we woke up dazed and saw the bright red new edition that highly contrasted the white,
we laughed.
It wasn't even that funny and yet we laughed until we couldn't breathe.
That was a week ago.
But it feels like forever ago.
Forever since I got to feel your soft skin pushed against mine.
Your hair tangled in my hands.
I'm washing the pillow case now.
I haven't let go of you yet.
But I can let go of the little things.
Some of the memory's.
And the ruby red lipstick stains on my pillowcase.
Your lipstick is still imprinted invisibly all over me.
Sinfully sweet, never intended to be.
Lipstick stains and messy sheets.
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YOU ARE READING
Finding Myself I ▽
Poetry"She painted her soul with words and displayed the pain for all to observe." Where a girl is learning how to love herself and the complicated life she lives.
