Pink Lipstick

I talk too much and it's not very cool.

Don't pull out your hair, they say. 

Don't pull out your hair, I tell myself.

I tell myself as I realise there's a sore part of my scalp and three hairs in my fist. I watch them fall to the carpet to join the rest. No point telling me not to do something I don't realise I'm doing.

The pink shopping bag has been there a while. Inside- gold and silver eyeshadow, bright pink nail varnish, and another of my favourite lipstick (my own on its last legs) that I was going to give to my friend for her birthday- four months ago. Cancellation after cancellation. Her older boyfriend taking priority. "Don't worry," She tells me over Facebook, "You'll find your perfect boy soon."  A reassurance that triggers a laugh, hearty and long lasting and victorious, the very same brought from the words, "The thing about Tolkien's fantasy is that he doesn't kill off too many characters." 

It's the you-have-no-clue laugh.

I take off the lid and apply the lipstick. The only makeup I wear today, unless you count yesterday's eyeliner. I don't know where to stop with it. Up to the crease of my lid, a little (soon, a lot) under they eye. Maybe some blue in the inner corners. Like a Capitol citizen.

Last week it was black clothes, gold eyelids and red lipstick. I can't make my mind up. One day I'm a shieldmaiden, the next I'm a goddess, sometimes just a God, and I might wake up and feel like I am taking up too much space and I have a monster disguising as a brain.

I think she's lied to me. I can't put up with it, whatever it is. I've lost track of my primary school friends. I wonder if any of them see a photo of me on Facebook and think I became attractive. Of course not.

I pull more hair.

The thin patches fluff up, and the broken strands stick out. Maybe if my hair was straight I wouldn't have this problem... I know I could make a joke here, but I can't think of one. 

My mother and the psychologist watched me fill out the form, so I just ticked 'Heterosexual'. Maybe when I feel better about all this I can change it.  When my hair grows to its full glory and I have less flaky friends and my brain has stopped doing this weird thing it does and I have a self esteem. 

I have two exams tomorrow.

The End

0 comments about this work Feed