Lip Gloss

The culprit behind those drunken insults ^.^

Slick lip gloss

Helps the words slide out and

Stick unsuspectingly

To shallow cows,

Surprised by insults.

My shameful mindset doesn’t

Stem my small talk.

Icy glares and flipped fingers

Slide past me, in

Short skirts and stilettos.

Sweet relief doesn’t last

As slappers parade the dance floor,

Tempting harsh comments from lips

That are as tacky as the gloss.

My salvation lies behind loud music,

And a plastered smile.

The club is a dangerous place.

I’ll surrender my lip gloss in the morning.

It’s a troublemaker.

For now, I’ll smother its statements

With a straw and bottle.

Reviews

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Great imagery here, God I remember clubbing..yes a dangerous place!