With your straw and your plastic string
 and your glazed mirrored eyes, framed by long black pins
 and sinister ocean paint, an angled blushing rash above
 bleached fangs surrounded by bubbling pink lava under
 a knife sharpening nose to scratch when
 white white white bleach turns to orange flame

With a neck so small to snap snap snap
 and breasts so large to suffocate
 your legs so long to snap snap snap
 looks to force and aggravate

If you were real I’d adore you. Whore you. Ignore you.

I can be thinner, I can try harder.
 I don’t need dinner, you are my martyr.
 I will be a winner, I’ll do what I can.
 You may be my killer, but I am you’re biggest fan.