I singe my hair dry
so it stays perfectly straight
even as I toss it over my shoulder
pretending I don't care
about your overused compliments
and your cinematic lines

I fill up my pores
with liquid lust
so that when I force myself to turn away
my skin glows with the kind of confidence
that can only be bought
in drug store chains

I rip every leg hair
from it's follicle home
so that when you graze my knee
with your lying fingers
you feel my vulnerable skin
and touch my soul in a way
that freezes my body to stone

I pull on the tightest dress
in hopes that it squeezes out
my crazy, romantic thoughts
and leaves nothing but the curves you desire

I speak perfectly chosen words
that I barely hear
because they are not my own
but they will win you over

I do all of this
just to come home alone
at the end of the night
and crawl into my bed
and think about the guy
I would rather have performed for
during this production