Lipstick Tears
Love.
It's better late than never.
A broken heart.
It's better never than late.
Where is my favorite lip gloss?
It's never misplaced.
Heart pitter patter.
If lost, such a waste.
Oh yes I'm in love
and I have my own drawer.
His place I head,
butterflies deep in my core.
Straight off the treadmill, not looking
so hot.
He won't be home, still
the sweat drops I blot.
Quickly write a love note
to leave on the fridge.
Initialed with my lipstick
Love carries me across the bridge.
Gliding through the doorway
Questioning the mess.
CD's strewn across the floor
Late night with the boys I guess.
Enter bathroom and
"What the hell is that!"
There certainly is lipstick here
Not mine though as I pull down my hat.
To hide the tears that kept on rolling
down my cheeks so hard.
Look once again at the mirror
Which I'd like to break in shards.
"Had a great time last night" ,
I read while frozen still.
I mean, who wear's that color lips
It's horrendous, let's be real.
Hearing footsteps enter in
my heart is on a race.
Check my face in silver mirror
Pink tears smeared across my face.
Looking good enough
Last impression should be steamy.
He mutters "Its not what you think it is"
Does he think he looks THAT dreamy?
Silence is golden
My number one motto.
I leave feeling like
I've lost by one number in the lotto.
My first real broken heart
I usually was the one to break them.
I'm better for it now
Today, I would just thank him.
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