Lipstick Tears

Love. It's better late than never. A broken heart. It's better never than late. Where is my favorite lip gloss? It's never misplaced. Heart pitter patter. If lost, such a waste. Oh yes I'm in love and I have my own drawer. His place I head, butterflies deep in my core. Straight off the treadmill, not looking so hot. He won't be home, still the sweat drops I blot. Quickly write a love note to leave on the fridge. Initialed with my lipstick Love carries me across the bridge. Gliding through the doorway Questioning the mess. CD's strewn across the floor Late night with the boys I guess. Enter bathroom and "What the hell is that!" There certainly is lipstick here Not mine though as I pull down my hat. To hide the tears that kept on rolling down my cheeks so hard. Look once again at the mirror Which I'd like to break in shards. "Had a great time last night" , I read while frozen still. I mean, who wear's that color lips It's horrendous, let's be real. Hearing footsteps enter in my heart is on a race. Check my face in silver mirror Pink tears smeared across my face. Looking good enough Last impression should be steamy. He mutters "Its not what you think it is" Does he think he looks THAT dreamy? Silence is golden My number one motto. I leave feeling like I've lost by one number in the lotto. My first real broken heart I usually was the one to break them. I'm better for it now Today, I would just thank him.