Lip Liner Boi

Lip Liner Boi

I’m On they ass today.

My mom is such a rider.

We walked through Walgreens for cleanser annnnnd Burts Bees annnnnd cotton rounds annnnd some other shit and I got that Aveeno. She suggested I’d get the pads. 

She loves my face. It’s the face she gave me. And I like it a lot too.

I’ve only put on makeup maybe a dozen times so far, and she knows what I could use and what I can chill off of.

My lips are my favorite thing about my face. That’s actually my favorite fun fact to say on first dates too.

AND GOD FUCKING DAMN. ARE THEY SOFT. 

They can steer a conversation like the Fontana Speedway. They love to eat pussy. Like LOVE to eat pussy. They love to kiss, sometimes for 2 hour make out sessions. And most of all they like to Talk. That. Shit.

They loud too.

So loud that EVEN IF I DIDNT WANT TO wear makeup. They’d still be known.

They’d still let the world know that they’re here. They’d still puff out, but never pout when someone didn’t want them. Never if someone didn’t want them on their forehead after hugs or before bed. And absolutely never if someone didn’t want lipstick, lip liner, or outspoken poetry on them.

I watched the Dennis Rodman 30-for-30 and then I died my hair pink too. On some REAL gay shit. 

My mom recommended I’d try eye liner. ON SOME REAL GAY SHIT.

She said I prolly would only need to touch up under my eyes, because my eyes are subtle and nice as is.

...

BUT LIKE STILL ON SOME REAL GAY SHIT.

I’m tryina paint my nails soon. ON SOME REAL GAY SHIT.

I got like 4 beaded bracelets on, all hand made, right the fuck now. ON SOME REAL GAY SHIT.

These pants are specifically tight to show my ass (but not really my bulge to be COMPLETELY honest).

ON SOME REAL GAY SHIT.

I guess I promote skincare pretty often, specifically for Brown Bois. ON SOME REAL GAY SHIT.

I do a lot of REAL GAY SHIT.

But my lips aren’t that. They’re just lips. And whether they got makeup or not. You would rather kiss them. Right?