Lipstick | Teen Ink

Lipstick

October 30, 2022
By Anna_Grace GOLD, New Paltz, New York
Anna_Grace GOLD, New Paltz, New York
16 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Bubblegum was the cotton candy in my throat when you led me through the crowd

Barbie pink was the pool float when you caught me so I didn’t drown

Strawberry was the smoothie, of course, I was drinking when the seeds got stuck in my teeth

Cherry was the undisputed source of the falling blossoms; a spindly, sapling tree

Flamingo was the flower you tucked behind my ear, foreheads a gentle temperature touch

Fuchsia was the lollipop I liked best that year, so you bought them all just to see me blush

Magenta was the valentine trimmed, and the beginning of a neverending dream

French Rose was the lipstick I was wearing when you kissed me.


Tangerine was the checkered blanket where you pushed me into the grass

Ginger was my hair back then, but the dye job didn’t last

Amber was the Ferris Wheel where my stomach flipped and whirled

Tiger’s eye was the cider, sealed with the pinkie finger of a little girl

Terracotta was the rose, its thorns biting through my skin

Marmalade was the awning you chose where you told me, “make a wish.”

Apricot was the jam I picked, hoping against hope you’d agree

Honeyed orange was the lipstick I was wearing when you hit me


Apple red was the flush in my face, always, of playing pretend

Burgandy was the rush of beauty, a skeleton in an off shoulder dress

Ruby was the engagement ring, glittering like a collar on my hand

Garnet was the wine you said to drink, and I remember nothing after that

Maroon was the ruined tablecloth when I stumbled down the stairs

Crimson was the blood dripping on my face and congealed in my hair

Scarlet was the nailpolish bottle that broke on the tiled floor as I started to scream

Cherry red was the lipstick I was wearing when you broke me


Lilac was the lavender in the vase at my hospital bedside

Amethyst was the price I paid for keeping a silver thread of my life

Mauve was the bruise that slithered up my neck in the shape of fingerprints

Violet was the route I had to choose, even through begged forgiveness

Indigo was the heartbreak weighing down on too thin shoulders

Heather was the first girl you found and now her skin will always be colder

Plum was the first thing I ate on that plane across an ocean so startlingly blue

Royal purple was the lipstick I was wearing when I left you


Coffee is the morning breeze I brew, rumbling like earth shaking thunder

Brunette is the hair of the woman lying bare under my satin covers

Tawny is the fur of the shepherd curled between our sides

Cedar is the sleepy contentment of the warrior soul inside

Rich umber is the guitar I tenderly strum and cradle in my lap

Walnut is the journal where I’ve begun to write about the walk to hell and back

Cinnamon is the bitter taste in my throat when I remember a little girl long gone

Mocha brown is the lipstick I am wearing when I decide to move on.


The author's comments:

This piece was written when I was reflecting on how, as I got older, I began to wear different shades of lipstick in different phases of life. Thus, I got the idea to use the lipstick as a metaphor for getting out of an abusive relationship and becoming an independent person.


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