Sugar-Cyanide

All you boys can eat your hearts out. I'll kiss my girlfriends on the television screen because that's how you make it big. And when my cardboard lips grow soggy, melting off my face, I'll go replace them in the land of light, silicone, and plastic. And when the quiet starts to creep in, I'll distract myself with the sound of gold and silver running through my fingers. I'll have my worker bees carefully place each hair on my head, have them strip away my imperfections, paint on a new face, make a woman out of a little girl. As the fans flit around me, moths to light, as each one pesters me, I realize they are a mirror image of my style, that