2003-08-22 @ 3:45 p.m.
You swipe at the lipstick of the night before. Cranberry red, juicy red. Clean away the acidic taste from your mouth. Bile. Vomit. You smudge your face with red and vomit.
Lips swollen, looking bruised. They're not, they just look it. I like them this way. Smeared red and acidic.
Your lips are acidic.
Clenching your teeth, and along with them, your hands. Clenching your hands, clenching the tissue in a fist. Tight fist. Tight grip. Angry now.
Looking down at your fists, ready to punch at your reflection in the mirror, ready to punch at anything, you realize your nails are cutting into your palms.
You bled onto the tissue. Lavender-scented and stained.
Blood and bile. Blood and lipstick. Your lipstick. Red. All red.
Unclenching your hands, you looked down at the tissue. Smeared red from lipstick and blood, made wet from bile and blood. Crumpled in anger, and about to be torn.
Tearing the tissue. Lavender-scented and torn. A little reminder of the night before.
My little secret.
Listening to: "Second Sight" by Placebo
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)