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

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