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She said, “I want to live on dandelions
I want to be beautiful
I want to float like a feather
through the stratosphere of life
an angel to behold

If we are what we eat
I want to be nothing at all”

And I’ve been dying for an impossible dream
that tells me thin is in, and I can starve my way
to perfection
I can feel the bones beneath my decaying flesh
and it’s beautiful …

If you cut out the pain and paste in
the martyrdom
because we’re dying to be free
high on the adrenaline of sleepless nights
and the glory of bones protruding outwards
through this cage of flesh we’re just trying to escape

‘Cause Hell’s a place you can’t see
it’s all in our heads, sliding along
thought patterns and chemical reactions
telling us there is nothing more beautiful
than death

© Indie Adams 2013