In his reflection I am inadequate
He casts onto me a veil of insecurity
Ordained with cheap mascara and gloss
I'm a concubine in the eyes of all

I play second fiddle to dissolvable filler
To bombshell bras and Facetune
So I give in to my materialistic desires
And I weep at my stellar mediocrity

They have recast my name with phrases
Categorized by a pornographic imperative
Petite brunette or ***** blonde
Our cuts of meat all marketed the same.

The rat race of womanhood has no victor
The treadmill will keep going
Only when I'm aging and forgotten
Will I breathe the fresh air of youth

Though still, I do not hate the other women
Only the man who sold me their lives.