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Poetry

Lipstick Promises

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: tiannamorison@gmail.com
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/

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by Tianna Morison

Tianna is a writer and mother in Calgary, AB, Canada. She is called mom by two great humans and a cat. When she isn't writing, Tianna is passionate about cooking healthy gluten-free meals, crochet and getting outdoors.


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