Botox Kisses

It's a short poem, story, statement, photo hybrid. I'm a little sad that it doesn't rhyme.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nightmares drip from silicone lips.

Eyes made from priceless gems follow your every step.

You're trespassing in a world for recovering beauties.

Higher beings.

Supermodels.

The hospital hallway is empty and filled to the brim.

Echoes of desperation spill over from each unoccupied room.

You are alone and surrounded. A whole soul inside an uncut body, crowded by the bits and pieces of plastic perfection.

 

The doctors are precise, like jewelers.

They snip and slice raw diamonds until they shine.

Beautiful but not quite.

Blood stains their bruised cheeks a expensive rouge.

Eyes highlighted by pain in a way powder could never duplicate.

Foundation would be a waste on skin pale and perfect from blood loss.

Wasted away limbs are the ultimate svelte.

 

Your face is bland and unbandaged.

Beauty unborn beneath your skin.

A snip. A slice. Could You join their ranks?

A Frankenstein monster to be loved.

To be worshipped.

The ultimate woman.

An artistic creation.

A masterpiece of poisons and incisions.

Be loved by millions for the face they've created.

Grant your devoted your vague attentions.

Smile your tight and twisted smile.

Please them with Botox kisses.

Done