strips of missing

She is a sort of pretty
Girl that acts tough with plastic

Nails. Blonde hair. Fake tits.
Black lined eyes. Frosted lips

Pout. Toward you while another
Worries about knowing. Too much

About how making cuts to suit
Won’t make you. Want me

To push. Struggling since
I will never be good. Enough

Backlash from pictures and phone
Calls. Speaking to you

When I am near. I say to myself
I could be rugged. Like her

On the outside. I might. I mean
I have this history. Suppressing

Ways I have been slaughtered.
Navy purple bruises beneath

My dress. Shallow coverings
Perhaps. I should cake makeup

On my face. Inject myself with
Silicone. Say fuck more.

And you could decide.
And we could be happy.

Or paint me with her shadow.
Until. I fade away.