Ritualistic mascara worshippings, prayers to the goddess of
Lipstick, crimson velvet lips framing a black hole;
Crushed diamond eyes and porcelain fangs, she's made of glass and
Full of empty odes to nothingness.
Walking down lanes of angst, the pathway to hell is paved
With cheap pills and razor blades,
Plastic and gold paint, your gods are chipped and cracked; they're
Shielded and veneered.
Hearts crushed to fine powders, spilled eye-shadow glitters on
A soul full of broken glass.