Liquid liner.
Dipped in plastic.
Glossy shiner.
Perfection is drastic.

Insecure shaped lips.
Seal the beast.
Pointed by strips.
Society's fresh feast.

Skin of flawless paper.
Mask over eyes, shaded.
The aroma of vapor.
True self now faded.

You like the idea of her.
Rip away the skin.
Cravings impure.
So angelic it's a sin.

Fear of all hate.
Standing empty.
Yet corrupted whispers bait.
The repulsive act of plenty.

Delusional idea of her.
Peel away the layer.
In search for a cure.
In need of a slayer.

Wishing for a model.
A king for a queen.
Elastic smile hostile.
Blinded by a screen.

Burn the idea of her.
Tear apart the wax.
Black blood a blur.
A life's truest of tracks.

I don't know her.
You don't know her.
We don't know her.
No one cares.

Still, you like the idea of her.
Rip away the skin.

I thought this little poem would be nice to post. Nothing's better than the natural beauty gifted to you from above.