Trapped in a Plastic Skin.
Talk about your average
teenage trend
with shutter shades
and rainbow blends.
Gyrating along
to an obscene song,
your caustic lyrics shine
under neon strobe lines.
She's a Hollywood horror doll,
with skin like plastic
and a mouth like elastic,
taut and ready to face the world.
Count the ribs one to twelve
with dancing fingertips to skim along
a broken body,
shattered bone.
Criss-cross lines decorate
the inside of her translucent wrists
and starry eyes
betray pretty lies.
Cracked sink,
and a macabre glow
how many pills do I need
before I can go?
i need to get out.
i haven't updated, there have been technical glitches, i've been sick, i've been busy. i have no time.
thank you for bearing with me.
and any comments/critique is GREATLY encouraged. because i am awful as a poet.
i just needed to get it out of my system.
xo, effay.