Rip your face off,
Like a glossy billboard stuck on a high-end street.
Tear your skin off,
The clothes you wear don’t mean jack ****.
Pick at your spots and pull them in,
They’ve been feeding you lies,
Saying, “treat this”.
Shed every ounce of you until you are less than zero,
Baby, you are nothing,
You’re the equivalent of all collisions,
One straight line,
Tearing up the axis,
No one can skew your data.
And still they tell you to go from A to Z,
Don’t they know you already own the alphabet?
Every inch of you is made up of letters,
I guess they’re blinded by all the,
Post-it notes that other people have made,
Reminding themselves to behave.
No means no,
Yes means maybe,
And maybe might just be okay.
So, maybe, it’s okay if we stack you up against all odds,
Lay you down in horizontal,
Make a skyscraper out of your body,
Advertise your features,
Light up your insecure,
Let the AC blast against your lungs,
Remember you are nothing,
We’ve placed tress around you,
Parks and gardens to disguise your emptiness.