Image - Lera Lynn

You fabricate me, necessitate me

I am the cover of your magazines

Your morning dark roast-lust cuisine

You can’t escape me, your hate creates me

I am the cancer to your feminine

The mother of the serpentine

I am the headline, I am the undermine

I am the voice inside your head

A screaming child with deadly lead

You give me buzz feed

You sun the bad seed

You crave the endless stream of

The sensational and obscene

I’ll give it to you, you’re gonna beg me

I’ll give you rise and shine and break your legs

I’ll drink your fine wine and leave you the dregs

You’re gonna thank me, congratulate me

For the mindless image that we’ve made

And the ugly truth we’ve betrayed