The half moon mirrors those under her eyes
Her eyeliner smeared and makeup caked
Like a porceline mask on a porcelain face
To hide her porcelain mind
And her porcelain heart
Which pumps not blood
But vacuum and ice
She's thrown into the porcelain
To be so fragile, you'd think it'd break up
Like a bad rhyme scheme
But it just sinks to the bottom of her porcelain face
And makes the water rise.
Untitled Poem
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