Pretty pretty pretty girl. Fables and sweet nymph songs dance in your head. You paint your eyes with pretty pink glitter and your cheeks are rosey. Such pale skin on this pretty pretty girl. She glows and shines. Fairy wings attached to her back, she never removes them. Like the cigarette between her lips or the Gin and Tonic in her hand.

Lies lies lies. Lies are her language. She tells you a fairy tale she calls her life. All about pixie dust and vermillion orgasmic chants. In her fairy tale world she's princess Hepburn-Monroe. Dating Humphrey Gable-Dean. Rose petals and pink clounds are her beds, she sleeps from dawn until dusk and she dances in the shine of the moonlight. She's so pretty. Pretty pretty girl.

Colors colors colors. She lives n a world of rainbows and pastels. Pink is her sky, a teardrop tinted sun, seafoam grass, raindrops taste like wine and cigarettes. She can hear the abnormal girls laughing at her attire. Purple fairy wings, flowy electric blue skirts, pastel pink corsets, black ballet slippers, and a silver tiara sprinkled with glitter. She's the only normal one here. With their jeans and tank tops. She shares a private joke with herself.

Love love love. Her lover has the scent of day old Chinese food, Old Spice, and liquor. Mr. Gable-Dean is that perfection you find only in old movies where sound was a far off element and colors were left to the imagination. He's her bad influence, her teacher, lover, her everything. She melts into his arms and sleeps like a kitten.

Die die die. Our pretty pretty girl has fallen aslep. Not the sleep of slumber where the Sandman sprinkles his magic dust across our eyelashes, but the sleep that makes your loved one weep. But only one person weeps for pretty pretty girls death. Her prince charming. Prince Gable-Dean sits on her grave stone with a black rose and her black ballet slippers. He lays them down. Tears falling down his cheeks like diamond dew drops. Whispering to her, "Princess, I did as you asked. You were layed to rest in your fairy wings."