Lipstick Stain Is A Work Of Art Lyrics Novels & Stories

Except I wouldn't be able to put my makeup on, it had been ruined. My mirror was covered in my makeup. Whoever vandalized my station had used my makeup to draw a girl in a compromising position across the mirror. Her body was made from my eyeshadow, her hair was all of my false lashes, and the man behind her was made from my lipstick. The word "whore" had been scratched directly into the glass beneath it. No cleaner in the world could remove that. "Happy opening night, Diamond Dancer one," Monica said from the center of a gaggle of girls. They all laughed after she spoke and made their way away from my station.

Her eyes are black and I hate to admit it she looks a little different with her red lipstick and blue lens. " I hope this goes as planned or else we're fucked ." She says and I chuckle. " This is for the ones we love and lost because of a stupid drug deal. We're putting an end to this." I say and apply my own red lipstick. Green lens looks good on me. " We look like sluts." She says and I chuckle. I put on thick lashes and blink my eyes several times. With a final touch of eyeshadow, my eyes look darker than normal. So much for being a stripper. She throws an ID on top of the dresser and I pick it up.

Night was approaching slowly, darkness was slowly creeping in. He stood and flapped the handkerchief. "I'm not going to wash off this stain. I will keep it like art," he said . "You better wash that off" I said, coming closer and tracing my hands round the part of his clothe my make up stained. He looked down at me with a smile. "I miss you. " Silence stared at us waiting to receive my response.

'Cause with you my heart pops corn out of my system candy-colored lipstick Crystal waves I feel it every time that you are winking legs weak I know the lyrics are weak love is cheap but expensive drums are beating in my stomach and popcorns came from my heart cause why are you the only one that I like? I guess staying here is worth it after all.

I was so estatic at this moment,that i closed my eyes and moaned quietly. "Haa..hh..Dylan..stop.." i said in a lazy voice. He stopped,bit his lips and looked at me. "I won't rush ..we'll go at your own pace..don't worry..let's talk a bit okay" I went back to my seat ,took two make-up wipes from my bag,because we both had lipstick splashed all around on our face,and i gave one to Dylan. "Haha..i should have taken a picture ..and i would have pinned it across every wall at school..i'll mention something like "he stole that lipstick because he wanted to try it!"

I tried to persuade her. Shani smiles and gives in. She started to dance and sing the lyrics to the song. Brown skin girl, ya skin just like pearls Your back against the world I never trade you for anybody else, say Brown skin girl, ya skin just like pearls The best thing inna di world I never trade you for anybody else, say We danced and singed along to the song until it was over. Then we hugged it out. “So how does my makeup look?” I ask the both of them.

If a freak was what they all saw, if evil was all they thought when they saw me then so be it. My eyes flickered, staring at the different shades of lip stainers. I picked one that had my heart drum. I brought it to me to open the lid. My finger went in, dipping it and brought the stainer to my lips to paint them black. I wished I could paint the whole world black, wished I could just scream and paint it all black. My head tipped, staring at myself in the mirror embracing who I was, who I have always been and just been running away from.

It was just a stomach bug. Beside me, Lily hummed softly, her reflection glowing in the mirror as she traced her lips with a deep red lipstick. The other girls had already scattered off to wherever their nights would take them in the club. “Somebody’s in a good mood,” I teased her. She smacked her lips dramatically and gave me a side-eye through the mirror. “Good mood? Babe, I stay in a good mood. Men cry when they see me in this lipstick.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Men cry when they see their wallets after you’re done with them, don’t flatter yourself.”

Daniel was a man of logic. But as I stood there, the sunlight warming my skin, I realized I could still smell it. It wasn’t in the air anymore, but it was in my mind. A tiny, oily stain on the memory of our morning. Crushed lilies. I didn’t put the lipstick on. Instead, I turned to my easel and picked up a palette knife. I looked at the beautiful, serene ocean I had been painting—the Amalfi coast, the symbol of our perfect beginning.

I giggle as I sprint into our home, trying my best to ignore our limo driver. I make my way upstairs to our room and quickly check my reflection in the mirror. I definitely look like I’ve been worked over. My hair is messy and is sticking to my face and neck from a thin sheen of sweat covering my body. My breasts have small bite marks on them, my thighs are still covered in my juices. My face is flushed, and my lips are swollen from Vincenzo’s rough kisses. I make quick work of taming my hair and grab my tube of red lipstick. I pop the cap, staring at the bright red color- a color I have grown to hate and fear. I steel my nerves and grip the applicator tightly. I won’t live in fear of anyone