Lipstick by Rawa

I stand taller
with plum lipstick
on my lips.

I wear my feminine as armor.
Stand in front of the armoire
and paint my face like a soldier
off to war. 

I draw wings sharp enough to stab and maim.
Highlighter to blind them all.
Brush blush to make roses blush and
bronzer for watching empires fall.

I stand taller
with plum lipstick
on my lips.

I don’t dress to impress,
I dress to conquer.
Wear clothes to let you know
I’m the one in power.
I don a shade of burgundy
deeper than the blood of my enemies.
Seriously. I could kill a man in these.

I stand taller
with plum lipstick
on my lips.

In a world where anything associated with women is seen as frivolous,
where acting or looking like a girl is deemed as weak.
In a world where having a female body is dangerous,
where I’m beat down before I get the chance to speak.
I partake in the ritual
of prepare
for the outside
that will yell in my face if I dare look up.

I stand taller
with plum lipstick
on my lips.

And some say lips painted dark
are a shame.
That I’m too bright
and too loud
too unafraid.
But I’ve bark
and I’ve got bite.
Too proud
to obey.

I’ll wear my lipstick
dark purple.
I’ll wear the red
that is powerful.
I’ll wear the heels that sound less like clicks
and more like the beat of a war drum.

I’ve reclaimed control of my own body,
got my fists tight around the brush that gives me peace.
With makeup, I
am both the artist
and the masterpiece.

 

Leave a Reply