Novel & Cerita Lipstick Stain Is A Work Of Art Lyrics

“No, no, no, no Oh I’m tryin ‘, I’m tryin’, I’m tryin ‘I’m tryin’, I’m tryin ‘Oh tryin’, I’m tryin ‘, I’m tryin ‘I’m tryin’, I’m trying ‘Not to give in to you No, no, no, no Not to give in to you With my feelings on fire Guess I’m a bad liar. “ I close my eyes as I turn around swaying my hips. I bit my lip when I saw Doc’s handsome face in my mind. “I see how your attention builds. It’s like looking in a mirror. Your touch is like a happy pill but still all we do is fear. What could possibly happen next? Can we focus on love?” “Paint my kiss across your chest If you’re the art, I’ll be the brush. “I sang as if I was in a concert. I used the whole stage to dance. There’s no one here so no one

Fiona, the makeup artist said as she put the final touch of crimson-colored lipstick on my lips. Ah. I just felt my face became heavier compared before. I can feel some itchiness on my face and I feel kind of uncomfortable with the paint on my lips. I keep on tasting the lipstick. "O.M.G. IS THAT REALLY YOU, BEST FRIEND??!!" Lucy said, looking so surprised and amazed while looking at my face. She put her hands on the back of the swivel chair where I am sitting on and spin it around, letting me face the mirror. O___O

Mia My hands shook as I picked up the crimson lipstick from the marble benchtop. I wasn’t really partial to such a loud color. The bright, rouge shade made me feel uncomfortable. It made me feel like I was laid bare on stage, the center of attention, people leering at me, which I didn’t like. I was more of a natural color type girl. Nude pink was my favorite, followed by a peachy orange. These colors I would describe as both beautiful and innocent. Yet I was neither beautiful nor innocent.

she perked my lips transferring her bright red lipstick to my black-painted lips. “Oh Liane,” I chuckled, “Now you have ruined my makeup,” I said, trying to wipe the stain off my lips. “I figured if I want to be a successful Luna like you, I should spend time with you,” holding her hands and smiling I continued, “ I want to spend more time with you, you inspire me” “Oh! Stop it,” she blushed, you will make a great Luna yourself” “What did she do this time?” I said pointing to Tasyra who was kneeling on the ground

I say covering my face. "I'm not, but it's not just you. There's just so many cliche songs about how a girl who's different and the guys knows it. Like in Bo Burnham's song, Repest Stuff." Lili says. "I'll have to check that out." Sylvester says, unsure of what to say next. I awkwardly laugh and subtly glare at Lily. Just because she likes witnessing drama, doesn't mean she has to start any. Lily gets the message and says, "The cookies will be done soon. You can help move them to a plate."

I coax. She takes the lipstick from my hand and pops off the cap. I watch from inches away as she glides the end along her top and then bottom lip. It's dark red and sexy as hell. She presses her lips together and rubs them against each other in a practiced move I'm sure she's done a million times. Why this fascinates me so much is beyond me. Fuck, she's impossible to resist and I stop fighting it.

The girl gasped. “There it is,” she whispered. “He always marks what’s his.” She circled her slowly. “You know what this is, right?” she said softly. “This isn’t sex. This isn’t love.” She reached forward, trailing her red-painted nail down the curve of her spine. “This is initiation.” Her breath hitched. The woman smiled. “Come on. He told us to get you ready.” “Ready for what?” Lipstick Girl turned, sashaying to the closet.

*Test of my patience, there's things we'll never know You sunshine, you temptresses My hand's at risk,I fold Crisp trepidation I'll try to shake this soon Spreading you open Is the only way of knowing you We'd be a fine line...we'd be a fine line...we'd be a fine line...*

Lila stood in front of the mirror, staring at a woman she barely recognized. She didn't want anyone to dress her up today, she was doing it by herself. Her lipstick was a deep, aggressive red, the kind of color that said she didn’t care if she bled, as long as she won.

“Just need a little lipstick.” I watched as she pulled out a tube of lipstick and started applying it. Everything seemed to slow down. The way she tilted her head slightly, the soft glide of the lipstick against her lips. It was mesmerizing. And embarrassing. Jealousy stirred in me, and I couldn’t believe it. I was jealous of her lipstick. It got to touch her lips, and I couldn’t. When she turned back to me, her lips perfectly painted, she caught me staring. “Is something wrong?” she asked, tilting her head.