Short Matte Poems

Matte Pissed

She’s a thrown compact 
shattering a vase;
She is the flower 
that is still standing;
Perfect matte lipstick;

Targeted wall, 
it cannot hide;
A foaming pout,
feminine rage;

Fire flashes;
Estrogen,
no factor;

You’re rude,
now she’s 

pissed.