The Evil I Do For Love

                                                                                            

Dye my hair and inhale that ammonia straight to my brain
Starve myself skinny to make him look at me

Mirror, mirror
Who is the clown jumping up and down but never received a glance

I am a pixel away from being his type

I, myself, is still a prototype
A little more blonde and delusion
Dare drink that peroxide to clean my gut of pollution

Two more kilograms less and I am going to be the perfect mess
I am so frail and afraid, desperately need that concern in his gaze

May this bright hair blind him to all but his fondness of me
As the sightless cannot see the built-up cake on my face
And the unsubtlety of pink to hide the gaunt cheeks lacking meat

Mirror, mirror
Why is he so out of reach but death is nearer

© VJEQ