By Jessy Iris.
She walks on a wave of wind
And leaves charm in every step
But behind her perfect curtain
A remote secrets barely kept
Dying to fit a twisted mold
Eating calories she won't keep
She has no hands left to fold
A special brand of weak
Praises foster a porcelain prison
Drunk in a symphony of bones
An audacious madness has arisen
Sinking faster than a stone
Rare to see beyond a lipstick smile
She's still breathing, but has been dead awhile.
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