When I see your girlfriend's name
Scribbled on your notebook,
I want to vomit on her shiny new shoes
And perfectly highlighted hair
And rip the skater clothes from her back
Because I know
Just as well as you
That superficiality is succeeding.
Once you get past the eyebrow ring
And perfected dyed blonde hair,
All that remains is a little girl
Playing dress up
In a skate shop.
She is your mannequin,
Trying to catch
A glimpse of my misery.
