Lipstick.

She uses me once again.
Twist.
Push.
Pull.
Whatever her method is, she always finds a way to yank me out my comfort zone.
She coveted me once, only off of what she saw.
Now I’m nothing but an accessory to a crime of stealing man’s hearts, and
leaving them behind in shreds.
Without finesse, she rubs me all over her lips.
But doesn’t she hear me?
I scream to break free from her overbearing grip.
To escape the dark, confining prison she mindlessly shoves me in.
But how heartless is she.
She just uses me, over and over again.
And I am a cohort in countless thefts and murders.
Until she uses me up, and buys another one.
If only she would hear me.