cult teen


Hannah doesn’t believe she’s bulimic and maybe she’s right

                                                            This bitch is all purge and no binge

She says she worships at the altar of indulgence

But can’t indulge


My girlfriend thinks she could

Convince me to kill

I wouldn’t be surprised

She’s a cult teen, a relic from a forgotten age

Child of the satanic panic of the 80’s

She’s a look

Wants plastic surgery so she can be

Holocaust survivor Barbie

Gaunt and ghoulish but at least she’s skinny

Cigarette smoke and red eye shadow

Hung over hottie

But at least she’s skinny

She says she knows what cigarettes do to you

But doesn’t plan to live long enough to find out 


Cult teen

Dark lipstick stains on her lovers cheeks

So young and already so


So young and already so sure

It’s a look

Cult teen cynical

Cult teen beautiful

Cult teen can’t

Act fat



Wants her outside to be as taunt as her pulled tight heart strings


To be shaped like no shape at all

Wants to erase herself

Wants to become oblivion

It’s a look

It’s artistic

Her suffering is stylish

Her pain can be your

Trendy new wave of activism

It’s easy to cry over

Pretty disorders

It’s easy to cry over

A look that’s eating her alive 

This poem is about: 
My community


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