Woman

My body is a wasteland.

It is marrow and bone, 

Plasma and plastic.

Poisonous, complex, and inorganic;

The product of chemistry and artificiality,

It is modern beauty. 

 

My body is a vessel,

For your pleasure and success.

Silent and empty,

Twisted and shaped to your idea of perfection,

Decay concealed, by products of chemicals. 

It carries on your image.  

 

My body is the battlefield,

Shattered from limb to limb

Cancerously pushing on,

Internally laden with vulnerable wounds and toxic blood.

Hiding any trace of war,

It is the new frontier.

 

My body is an object.

Displaced and meaningless,

It moves without purpose

Towards the unattainable destination of worth,

Burdened with ignorance,

It is void of life. 

Author's Note

feedback would be great. please and thanks