This one is excellent! The last line in particular draws the reader into the secret, lets him or her in on the joke of the poem itself. I like these little asides and winks to the audience. You have the style of a true professional!

For the love of all things unholy Wrath... Grow some balls. If you hate your parents and their ways as much as you seem to you should have taken this statue of filth that she loved, destroyed it with a hammer, pounded it into dust, and snorted it just to taste her sorrow at it's passing.

I think the smile would be the deaths grin smile that all skulls bear. We all die smiling. But you can only tell if you rip the lips off.

Crazy son of a gutter whore. Not you, Phoenix. I meant Fiddlesticks.
This poem feels sharp to me, like the jagged edge of a broken unicorn statue. That feeling of something innocent and cheerful being turned into something that can hurt you or maybe get you grounded for a very long time even though it wasn't your fault because the fu*king rug was loose and you were just trying to dust the high shelves and anyway why does a 46 year old woman have a statue of a UNICORN anyway?

I love this poem, especially the 'smiley face' part. You have a spark of humor in you that just won't go out no matter how rough things get.