I'll sit as still as stone
while in your running, you miss -
you're a modern day Medusa,
kissing the screen which sells you bliss.

And though you hope to know me,
I could never tell a soul...
About the depth and cost
Of all the loss
Which your sorrow and money stole.

If you ask me for the truth,
I'll give it to you for free.
You're a walking corpse
who sold her youth for a horse
that can only crawl a mile of three.

We meet in the dollhouse at teatime
your presence is like a disease -
emitting odors most foul
as you flap your saggy jowls
******* at your wig for fleas.

Among all of the talk I breathe,
from the rancid to the divine,
I inquire of God with half a smile
and ask, "who will arrive on time?"

Pardon me, if you could, madam
I simply find it hard to fathom
That a fortune was rigged for the infantile -
the rotten, the greedy,
I could go on for a while...

You are a nightmare which offends my dreams
Dressed in cat ***** rags, yet you act like a queen
"This will be my year! Just you wait and see!
My bag-a-bones mother holds her fortune for me!"

Yet I do have a humble suggestion of my own...

If you could remove your rose colored glasses, you'd see
Your own wolf cries haunt the halls for eternity
I can see right through you, already a ghost
Doing the least, and grifting the most...

You were sold a lie, and bought all in.
Your garbage collection is not your friend;
for little could save you from this cruel fate -
the love tokens were counterfeit,
your screams buried beneath the weight of your hate.

There is no more room for you to draw another breath;
for your freedom bearer is whom you fear the most - death.
Consumed by your ego, you must pay the toll.
Pray you may request a refund for your very soul.