They think they forced me into
Their pretty society
Their pretty mindset
Their pretty list of all those
Popular enough to attend
The local
World,
Life,
Food bank,
Skyscraper,
Like a tower of toilet paper,
Or a shining castle of cards.
They kneel at my feet,
Shouting, in falsetto voices,
“Oh, goddess of plastic,
Lord of the cheap,
The plastic,
The glitter,
Let us cut you up,
Let up bottle your blood
To paint our dying sun
And cook up your flesh like
Soylent Green.
Let us tattoo your name
Onto our f****** eyelids
So we never forget!
Let us break your bones to use as knifes
To stab our f****** hearts
And use your
Skyscraper,
Toilet paper,
Cards,
To throw ourselves to our death!”