Her Crown

My hair is as much a piece of me
As a piece of paper, tattered, ruined
Sitting beside itself next to the latest issue
of Glamour, Vogue, Allure
Something I can never possess

Some say, beauty can be found in the eyes
Of a girl who's known the depth of sadness
The betrayal of a lover
Contempt in those about her, swarming like flies

But hair
Scented, oiled, repaired, damaged
Curly, wave, fine, straight, thick
With more potions, serums, treatments
Than the body could ever take at once
All to preserve Death

For the hair in between your fingers
Is purely dead
While the heart strives for long, beautiful hair
Almond, doe eyes
Pearlescent skin
Thin frame
Voluptous form
And in the end, what kingdom is this?

Perfection is just a lie
That all women strive for
Conciously
Subconciously
In the empty happiness of beauty
Barren eyes, gaunt lips, and all.