Vomit in my throat && blood pooling under my eyes (red-lie-tears) as I
reach down into the cavern that is my mouth, hoping to make myself just a
bit more beautiful by dropping another pound &&-

Alice only ever wanted to be appreciated darling && the little princess can’t understand why
her mother says she should have been aborted.
Isn’t Alice beautiful?
She’s supposed to be, or so say the fairytales with good prevailing over evil-another lie parents tell
to placate kiddies when the dark creeps in through the windows &&
frightens them all half to death (another ‘if only’)
but-

My skin eaten away by my razorblade lover (licking away
my pain && leaving me gorgeous-beauty exposed now for all the world to see,
sin stripped away with my skin)
I am swooning in the embrace of pain (the only thing
that’ll never really leave me)
&& crying out around the puke that’s in my mouth
(“I told you I’d make me pretty again”)
as the bile burns away at my throat
(I’m hoping I choke)
and the bloodsheen blind my eyes.

Alice only ever wanted a chance to die, but guns
aren’t for kiddies, and what
eight-year-old can get their hands on arsenic?

But I’m (Alice is) over all that now, smiling
through crimson stained teeth (she’s
feeding on her own pain, what a masochist)
&& telling herself that mommy will love her once she’s
perfect.