makeup
makeup
smeared
taints young colors on pillowcases
crusted with day
from sun and sweat
it's torn away from teary eyelids
smeared
sticking to skin on palms and fingers
we cower under it
caking over self-induced mistakes and imaginary lines
that threaten perfection.
soaks up the rose in our cheeks
till we are china dolls in glory but
we're running out
of pencils
brushes
wands
masks
ideas.
we need new relief.
Guide that inspired this poem: