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Crunch crunch crunch
My skin is ashen.
My clothes have sharp creases,
yet the dye is bleeding away.
My makeup looks like I put it on upside-down
Lipstick on my forehead, down to
Mascara on my nose and
Foundation on lips.
My shoes are on my hands,
and my gloves on my feet.
I crawl in the gutter
to a rainbow covered puddle,
or dance up to a mirror
at the Waldorf-Astoria.
I look at myself and smile brightly.
I don't think I've ever looked more beautiful.
