I stand in the aisle of bottles and pigments
Testing the red tube on my hand
The mark the perfect shade of blood.
With lips stained red I would be
Renewed-
Rising like a phoenix from the ashes
Of the old me,
Away from my scars and insecurities.
I clutch the red lipstick in my hand,
A magic wand
An open door to a new version of myself.
I decide to step through.
At home I unwrap it
Holding it as if full of burning stars.
It holds a sacred promise. A new journey.
I wear it for one day at home.
It stays in my drawer
Almost brand new.
Full of unfulfilled promises.
Author: Tianna Morison
Email: [email protected]
Author Bio: Tianna is a writer, blogger and mom. She spends her days working on Babbling Panda Blog where she writes about mental health, her kids and being gluten-free. Tianna lives in Calgary, AB, Canada with her family and cat, Kali.
Link to social media or website: http://babblingpanda.com/
