They told her not to wear red, because good girls don't, so she painted her lips with fire and blood and glossed them over tight.
They said not to paint her nails black because nice girls like them pink, so she bottled the night and hid the grave dust and their skin under the grooves.
They warned her not to do her eyeliner too dark, because smart girls don't wear it at all, so she did her lids up like Sharpie, and they couldn't see into her eyes, their words couldn't seep into her soul.
They reminded her good girls don't wear skirts so short, nice girls don't wear heels so high, and smart girls don't wear either, so she hiked her dress up her thighs and wore her killer heels, reminded them she was not theirs to tame.
-c.b.l.
Delicate*