Help me put on my face,
Help me carve a wooden smile.
With the pocketknife stolen,
From hell.

Allow my eyes to be painted hazel-green,
The color of the dreams never seen.
Take the dead beat off the broken road,
And have them straighten my hair to perfection.

Create an artificial identity,
Searching for equal self-worth.
Help me cover up my shame,
With smears of foundation and blots of black eyeliner,
Concealer concealing emotion.

Help me sculpt my unsatisfactory body,
Until only sweet thoughts appear on my thighs.
Wolf whistles trailing behind my masterpiece.

Help me become the girl dreamed of,
Only seen when Photoshop founds a new ideal.
Forever poisoning the pristine idea,
That maybe I'm ok.
Only being ok.