These dragging power lines shackle her
Shock until numb, and heart stops
After beating too fast and shattering into
Oblivion (that is, the rest of her perception)

The percolating *** holes *** shots about her
*** and shots and shots and cigs
Crimson twigs rooted under business standards
Loathes the world's beauty standards
... *******

These dragging snakes constrict her vision
Of a better place, of a better time
Stronger the vignette view, the stronger the
Struggle,                         to
Separate tar from her feet these streets bought her
Clipped her wings
Told her to grow up and forget to fly
(Though flying is her worst nightmare)
So she assembles wax imitations
And plans to amputate

I'd tell her to stop
But she'll say there's prosthetics
And I'd rather see her tango in the wind
Fall to her death
Then go cold with the arms of a mini golf champ