shattered framework;

strong arms and fingers hold up my limp body
and prop me back in front of the camera and
under those lights where it’s just too bright.

his voice is not as fierce as it seems when he
yells, yet it just barely wakes me from my half-sleep,
drunk over the habit of perpetual insomnia.

“lights!
camera! baby,
are you ready?”

and just before i collapse in my brand new designer
gown, those strong arms and fingers put big, black
sunglasses over my eyes, prop me up again, and shake me

awake.

A/N: she models.