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.