Burn, freeze, sanitize
my hands
So they'll forget how yours feel
Cleanse my skin again and again
And maybe I won't remember
How soft you were in my arms
Lobotomize my brain, please
So I can forget who you are to me
Then maybe a smile
will appear on my cracked lips
And I will
lose you
to that beautiful new world

That cheap stuff
will run through you.

It'll give you a hard time
going down,
and then,
it'll hold your belly like a baby's hand,
soft and sweetly,
then it'll smack the **** out of you,
because you trusted it.

This cheap **** is a bad ****.

It tastes like molassess and *******,
it kicks like a jalopy,
turns over in bombs,
slices your belly button,
and pops its little head out of your stomach.

I like the cheap ****,
it makes me feel this way.

This way is the only way.

Kind of like
how they say
alotta love
is
good love.

Me in my mirror, mirror 
A ghoulish sight.

Awkward skulk 
'A clay face'
As my nose says 
'A dog snout'
As my eyes would say

Skin like a shelter
For bacterial catacombs
Rising up from under like undead

Screaming inside
I press my face into the right morph
Re-bend the crooked nose
Self-correct the bloated chin
I layer on more clay, then
Mold it again.
Re-mold some more.
Slice some off; 
what am I now?

"Pretty." an ideal voice says 

*******,
My eyes are tired from staring
"They aren't lasers"
I tell myself
"They can't surgically correct you"

And So 
goes another night.