Lipstick Stains

This poem was written few months prior. Here is a small back story of how the poem was written. I was part of a poetry writing club where we were asked to write a poem based on an idiom. I wasn't sure on how I could do it. We were given a week's time to come up with a poem which was to be performed in club's meeting the following week. I  genuinely struggled cause I could not think of how I could use any of these idioms as a prompt for a poem. But suddenly one night as I lay in my bed an epiphany hit me. A starting idea for a poem but I yet struggled to add any of the idioms. But I could not sleep until this poem was over. This poem did not fit the theme but it is one of my favourite poems. Poems that I would want to perform more, poems that I would want more people to hear. 

Lipstick Stains

I was 8 when I first stole my mom’s lipstick. 

I used it to tint my lips to a bold shade of red. 

But tiny little me failed to realize that this lipstick wouldn’t just tint my lips but also would tint my life. 

It would colour my character. 

Mind you, colour it, not to a pretty shade of pink or a bold red shade but it would colour it to a shade of shame. 

I was 10 when I heard the story of the girl whose innocence was stolen.

The story was all over the news. 

But all they discussed was how she coloured her lips with a lipstick. 

But not how he forcefully removed it from her lips. 

All the eyes were on her lips but not on the hands that touched those lips. 

I was 14 when I brought my first lipstick. 

I was pleased to look at the stack of well-arranged lipstick in the store,

But as I stared at each shade for longer,

I realized each shade represented a part of a society; and I had to pick one that was socially acceptable.

That day I picked the shade, but the choice wasn’t made by me, instead society made the choice for me. 

I was 18 when my niece stole my lipstick. 

Yes, the same one that I stole from my mom. 

I saw my little one in awe wearing the lipstick, tinting her tiny lips and character at the same time. 

I wished things were different for her, I know things would be different for Her only when pigs would fly. 

Lipsticks would tint her life just like they did mine. 

I am 20 years old,

I don’t know much about Life, 

But I do know a thing or two about lipsticks. 

Lipsticks don’t necessarily stain, 

Well unless it’s a girl’s character.

I hope you enjoyed this poem as much as I enjoyed writing it. It is a poem that reflects my growth to me not just as a poet but as a person as well. It shows how much I have grown up and I am truly grateful that I was prompted to write this poem by my poetry writing club. I am truly grateful that I was part of such an encouraging club. And if you are wondering, yes I managed to write a poem with one of the idioms. It wasn't as good as this one but I did mange to stay with the theme as well. 

Thank You 💕

-MJM.