As night crawls
you paint your face
like porcelain
porcelain smashes the wall
as night crawls
as faces form shadows
hiding men folded into fists.

There it lies
porcelain face
crumbling like biscuit,
abandoned like cake
in a muddy puddle.

You scratch your head,
lips bent like mascara
lipstick weeping from eyes
like cake in a puddle.

Alone,
trapped in a mess
of love and cuteness,
trembling in mud
you hear salt
raining down your cheeks
for a man shrouded in ugliness.

How will you taste the ugly
when you are porcelain,
flour raining down your face,
jam gluing your lips?

How will you smell the real
when you are cake
covered in vanilla
tossing in trash
in the Fenomenon of Fake and Freeze?

Cutie
can you crack through that capsule
and melt?
We are dying to see you live!

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