the lipstick on my lips
is dark and dry,
it looks like a blotch
of cheap paint,
my failed attempts
at trying to add worth
to a repulsive sight.
it leaves stains
on the corners of my lips
when I rub it off,
sickening me
once again.
I've spent days
looking for my approval,
I think it's time
I bury myself.
YOU ARE READING
the blue and the solace
Poesíaa poetry, thoughts and an excerpts collection. - #8 in poetry - #2 in poem
