point your toes and maintain a perfect posture.
take two steps to the left, take two steps to the right.
you’re back to where you started.
so baby, shake your hair out of that neat pony tail,
but keep the tutu, you’re still a little girl.
replace the pearls with cheap, broken diamonds.
throw out the sunday dresses, you won’t need them anymore.
but this is just the beginning;
the fucking prologue.
now we’re on to act one, scene one.
here we go; let’s ruin you just a little more.
smear on your trash flavored lip gloss,
paint your nails the color of sins.
put on a pair of stiletto heels and hitch up your skirt,
let’s see how the boys like you now.
jump up and down as you scream profanities,
make an ugly scene.
because pretty is out, honey, pretty is out.
act one, scene two;
this is the part where you open your eyes,
the part you might never get to.
you wake up to the sound of the alarm clock,
the emergency bells ringing in your head.
but you’re dead, you don’t exist.
all that exists is the whore that replaced you,
the day you decided to grow up.
it’s too late, it’s all too late,
it’s already the end.

i want to drive with my eyes closed and my windows open,
with my hair in the wind and my thoughts somewhere else,
somewhere far far away, where they’ll never come and find me again.

they don’t live under my bed,
or in my closet.
i didn’t just imagine
the shouting in the living room,
anger climbing up the stairs.
the tension
crawling through, under my door.
i close my eyes
but i still see them.
tattooed on the inside of my eyelids;
screaming in my ear.
they won’t let me sleep.
i try not to listen;
cover my ears and crawl under the sheets;
but i can’t fool myself.
these monsters,
they’re real.

we point out each other’s flaws and imperfections and tear it apart, into little bite-sized pieces.
we steal each other’s hearts and take it to the moon then drop it to see it shatter on the pavement, miles below.
we feed off each other’s pain and we laugh at the taste.
blood stains our streets, but do you even notice?

i could jump off the highest building,
forget all of my fears;
everything i’ve been taught before
because nothing,
nothing would mean a thing anymore.
i would scream your name out to a roaring ocean,
walk on wind and kiss the stars,
tell them just how much i love you.
laugh at nothing;
trip over clouds.
sit on the moon and count the streetlights below.
i could leave my shoes on mount everest;
stop thinking, for once.
let the rush of the world pass me by.
i would fall asleep on sunshine
close my eyes and let myself go
because with these wings, baby,
i could be invincible.

if i could fly.

grab a piece of paper,
take a pen
and write about your heart.
the way it beats,
how you’ve been hurt.
they’re only words,
you can’t bleed from saying them.

dance with all your clothes on,
have a sense of integrity.

don’t let him buy you
with anything less than love.

show him what’s under your skin,
not under your clothes.

she blames him and he blames her.
he yells to prove he’s the one who’s right,
she screams that he’s wrong.
he doesn’t want to admit defeat and stands his ground,
she says okay, alright, i give up and you win.
he doesn’t want to win that way, so he keeps on.
she gets frustrated, asks him why he can’t just let it go.
he tries to defend himself with an excuse,
she fights back.
he asks why she’s like like that,
she starts crying, but he can’t let go of his pride.
he watches as she walks out the door, with nothing more to say.
she wishes he would grow up and stop her,
he wishes she would stop being stupid and come back.
she can’t stop crying as she storms out,
he sits down, not knowing what to do.
she doesn’t walk far, hoping he’d come and find her.
he reluctantly gets up and goes to find her,
she yells at him some more but this time he doesn’t fight back.
he says i’m sorry, you’re right.

She built a wall, of vanity and forced confidence. A mask of perfect make-up, diamonds that shine so bright, you can’t see the scars. A layer of lies, perfected so that no one can crawl through the cracks and see what’s inside. Even her bones are hurting, from all this running and hiding. The ugly truth behind the beauty; She’s not so different under her skin after all. She bleeds the same, no glitter running through her veins. She can’t cry, can’t ruin the make-up that protects her from the cold unforgiving eyes. She pulls the trigger, but nothing’s changed at all.

a twisted image of beauty,
an impossible standard of perfection;
a murderer in the making.