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.