Plastic shame

Hope dies in the eyes, cemented in the mind,

I cant cry over those plastic dolls, shaped to be,

some perfection of beauty I can never reach.

Plastic runs down my lids,

etching beauty into my skin,

intoxication fills my lips,

and burns my lung,

as I try to scream,

tears running down,

swirling down,

into my fever dreams.

Hollowed out and shaped into someone I want to be.