Polar Plastic Girl.
Working weary palms into a lather,
wrung from havoc wreaked by her hummingbird mind.
A grenade of ghastly hues ground together
until deep jade and forest greens highlighted
each grain of her sandy gaze.
society seemed deadset on seeing her become a saintly victim.
With a single violent stroke,
she shed the mask she'd worn that evening,
like a clown deprived of sleep.
A circus acrobat, perhaps, or tight-rope walker;
painted garishly in pancake makeup.
Whatever you desire her to be, she revolts;
repulsed by the men that seek to destroy her with control.
She is the spectator, but also the spectacle!
A sight for sore eyes,
as the paint spilled on her pallette
poured into the pain inside her pageant heart.
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