This body has to be fit to measure,

Slice and dice until I am perfect.

I am just the person you always wanted.

Trim a little off of the nose,

fix my eyes,

I don’t want them to look deeply any more.

Dye this hair brown,

make it wavy,

as it cascades over my shoulders.

Cover up the spot,

you kissed,

just before you had to go...

I don’t want anyone else to know.

Make this body,

an hour glass figure.

I want to look sickly pale,

and anorexic flat.

I don’t want to be the person I use to call me anymore.

The reflection in the mirror that I see,

tells me a story I don’t want to hear.

1834 Westlake road,

around the corner from the sleep all night inn,

make a dash to the convenient  store.

Let me ask if they remember the girl,

that looked like she had the world.

The girl with the eyes that started so deep,

and hair that never covered her shoulders.

I don’t want anyone to recognize me.

Cut all of the imperfections from me.

I want to see my bones when I look down.

Make this skin soft.

Make these teeth sparkle.

Cover up the scars,

they won’t get me far.

Paint these fingernails.

Clean the skin our from underneath them,

I don’t want you on me.

Make me beautiful.

Make me pretty.

Make me hate me.

Make me fit to measure.

I want to be the person,

you always wanted me to be.