My mouth is a flat line and not
An invitation to draw on red lips like
A measure of my patience, boy it’s
Metered by the minute I don’t
Care what your friends told you about
Women like me we aren’t
Here to hold your hand or
The colours that stand out in the wild
are usually a warning.

I wrote this as part of National Poetry Month this year, when I participated in a challenge to write 30 rough drafts of 30 poems in 30 days!

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