Cotton candy-tinted tens
Glitter-specked cheeks
Tresses drenched in toxic fumes
And across her lips? a plastic, painted smile
You went to the school where they taught that if you paint a pretty portrait you can call it art
But art is not the perspective lines on the paper, its the perspective that lies in the painter
Hollow, empty, without soul
No one can feel you when you've encased your body in a shroud of shellack
Oh, how you lack
The understanding of the beauty of real
Barbie queen, instead become a stripper, and strip your skin's dead layers of empty vanity
Get back the core, the woman you were before they sold you on the lie that she was not enough
When you find her once again it will be clear to you that she is lovelier than you remembered
Her mind still strong, and her heart still tender
Because even though she's been buried, with decay and death determined to destroy her
They could not touch her
She would not let them, for she knew that you would come back for her one day
When, both, youth and men went away
And you were left hanging alone in a museum of art that never did sell
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