anymore you're not so pretty please
she and her skin faced inward with her short choppy fuckme hair. and her delicate hands waiting to push them off cliffs. she had painted on her thin smile and sat holding a drink in her right hand. she played with the ice cubes as she played with the little souls sitting by her feet. but there was something missing. sitting like a statue, she stared out into the open running an imaginary dialogue through her head. and sometimes i wished i could steal her lipstick. as if it held some extraordinary power to keep my mouth shut. so that i could only say what was needed. when it was needed. if it was needed. something impressive to send them reeling. it was red like the corners of my eyes. i was being watched out of the corner of hers. and when i flinched, she did too. i was sensitive that day. i could feel them and pushed my hands into the wall behind me. begging for it to swallow me whole. to be unseen, unheard, unaffected by the existance of this magnificent being that commanded that she be seen and praised and adored. so i began to pick at it. peel away the layers until there was nothing left but the white. i covered it in plasic and got up and began to leave. when i reached the door, i stopped to look back. and i had seen that she had found her something and was quite content. she was tearing my remains with her teeth. she looked like royalty.