I leave lipstick stains
to mark my territory:
not on any significant other,
not even on cups or water bottles,
but on the cheeks of my mom and dad and brother
if he'll let me.
I have a stick of dark purple,
and another of bright pink,
and when I say my "good bye" and "I love you,"
I leave a ruddy mark.
My dad brags about me,
he says, "My senior still talks to me,"
and when I hear this second-hand I preen
and call him and talk to him some more.
My mom is the one who tells me this,
and she laughs at my antics,
me swelling up in pride,
because she thinks I'm hilarious.
Later, I wave in at her
while she's in some important meeting,
and she smiles and waves back, along with
three other members of that committee.
a wisp of smoke curls up--heavenward
until it disintegrates into nothingness
a burnt tip-- alighted by an orange flame
that flickers quick from a cheap Bic lighter
the cigarette dangles tantalizingly
between *******-- index and middle
it's a balancing act--
to stay away from the ashes
and to not drop your sustenance
dark red lips slightly parted
nearly purple, but not quite
as if a speeding car halted at an invisible border
the arbitrary line between purple and red
the smoke coming out in elongated ohs
once the smoke clears
she is gone
a hazed out,
i tried to capture the typical woman from a hard-boiled detective fiction/noir film, in someone's dream. think broadway's city of angels, for an example.
'Put my ice cream in the oven.'
'Apply some lipstick.'
'Stop winning and criticising.'
'I understand everything just fine thank you.'
But she laughs at her own jokes, she misunderstands mostly, she is loved by me.
Another one about my gran. All phrases in parenthesis are fragments of her.
bright red lipstick
and a little black
dress but you
are a mess and you
can't even give the
taxi the right address.
You smell of cinnamon
and sugar mixed with
marijuana and when
you laugh I can see
the fillings in the
back of your mouth
and I resist the urge
to touch your cheek
and feel the curves
of your body beneath
I can taste smoke
at the back of
and I remember the
way you once wrote.
I think maybe
I'll love you
until this *******
has left my veins.
What was your
Dress up your depression
Stockings and lipstick
Dancing and music
No it's all scattered
A mess everywhere
Just keep shedding tears
Mask your pain
With ***** and ***
Clubs and latex
No you're too sheltered
Poor and locked away
Openly showing **** shame
Take it as a specialty
Write pretty plays and poetry
Make meaning for your suffering
No you have no talent
Give up and sleep all day
end it all can't hide the pain
cherry stains knotted into cotton shirts,
the sunlight has baked your cologne into the threads and
a half-smile of lipstick on your left shoulder sleeve
The sun is smiling at you
The beach calls you
Why are you hiding ?!
You're so beautiful, put on your bikini now and go show off your body.
Are not you shaved?
Your hair on the body is not sin, it was God who put it there.
Show the skin, show the veins show your face.
Your face is so beautiful your skin and so lush, but remember what I told you?
You're more than that.
Your beauty will pass by one day your lush skin will have wrinkles.
But your mind and your brain will have knowledge forever.
I like your legs I like your body, I like to see you in every way.
You do not need them to find you ****.
Put that lingerie on you and show me those stretch marks.
Look in the mirror and say:
Damm! My stretch marks make me a mermaid.
My weight makes me happy and I was not made to follow standards.
Beauty standards weaken me
And I'm a woman
I'm not weak.
I was born strong and no one is going to take that away from me.
I was not born to please those who do not care about me.
I am confident and I make of my scars experiences.
You need to hear this truth.
You do not owe anyone your body.
You do not owe anyone your sanity.
And even if you change, you will never please everyone.
The only person who has to be pleased is me.
Today wash your face and leave the makeup, show the freckles, let the skin breathe.
But tomorrow if you want to put your lipstick red and slay.
Do not let them steal your freedom.
You are a butterfly.
Stop selling your brain girl.
Stop selling your sanity.
They do not deserve the prominence you give them.
Remember that you have fire inside.
Seek for yourself in the midst of your imperfections, date with your insecurities.
You need them to feel alive.
Do not give them the pleasure of controlling your brain.
You are selling your feelings to leeches.
Nobody is perfect.
Accept this .
They do not want to know what you feel.
They want to rob you of the right to speak.
Take the shine you have inside you
And let it flow.
we're both wearing red.
I motion her over and onto our bed.
Blood red smeared across our lips.
I keep her enticed, I straddle her hips.
I'm touching my lips.
Long acrylic nails,
for us never fails.
I show her a ***** and
she gently wails.
I lust her so much.
We ****, we're on fire
and I wonder,
which of us holds the power.
I, in all honesty is hoping it's her,
'cause then I'll continue this life
in her beautiful blur.
Poetry by Kaydee.
A girl in love with another girl.
She's full of lavender kisses
Fond of purple lipstick
Eyes of sapphire riches
She's possessive and hedonistic
She is love.