Share This Post

Art and Poetry / Featured News



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


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
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:

Share This Post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

Lost Password


Share This