A SICKENINGLY TRUE STORY
I painted my lips today.
I can never find the right shade,
So I used my blood.
I painted my lips today.
I used my blood.
I applied it with my fingernail,
It went on smooth.
I don’t think it was a good color.
I painted my lips today
With my own blood.
It dried my lips
With a shade of orange.
I was afraid it wouldn’t come off,
So I rinsed them with cool water.
The fluorescent lights were unflattering
As clear water dripped around my chin.
I was afraid it wouldn’t come off,
The blood paints a false color.
It needed to disappear and swirl into the drain,
Leaving my life forever.
Fearing permanence,
I took a towel and scraped them raw.
They started to tingle.
Fearing permanence,
I rubbed the rest of my face,
Until it was red like blood.
I tried to cleanse my soul.
Fearing permanence,
I looked at myself in the mirror
And cried.
