Fake as plastic, escaping their caskets
Barbie dolls bathe in the blood of Venus
Skin rots away but plastic is forever
In this Ken dominated patriarchy
On Tuesdays, they brunch with the Vuittons
Pink doilies and gold China made in Milan
Evenings spent with Givenchy’s muse
Playing croquet with their plastic heads
Pretty women kiss masked men in ballrooms
Through a champagne glass and whiskey tears
Everyone looks like Marilyn Monroe
Laughng and flirtirting and dying in bathtubs
Madness locked behind a gilded cage
of glitter and plastic, shiny and fake
And once the glitter fades, all that is left is
peeling plastic and shredded skin, blood oozing
from the cracks of an expired body