Her facial expression is vanishing.
She's hiding behind a black canopy.
Why can she not see...?
The retina in her eye must be damaged,
Or a confused membrane perhaps,
Giving her mix messages
To make her think she's fat.

Mirrors hatefully smashed,
They crashed into her repulsive features.
Particles of glass swallowed,
Swimming in her round balloon,
Hoping they inflate the terror within.

She flips through magazines.
Why torture yourself with make-believe?
Papergirl: thin, ripped, faint, and pale.
They taunt
'I'm a tomblike dream.
To be me would be your happy ever demise.
Load your bullets of desire: One -Girl you're a solider.
........Two -Place your food in a line.
........Three -Devour like a hungry terrier.
........Four -Position the fleshy gun inside your mouth.
........Five -Touch your throat.
AIM...! SHOOT...! FIRE...!
........Six -Passage eternally.
........Seven -bring up externally to the bottom of the latrine.
........Eight -wait for your heart to slow down its pace.
........Nine -If heaven doesn't take you first,
........Ten -your hips, ribs, and stomach will ache.'

Ashen girl, win this war, and put down the gun,
Before assassination is done,
And those papergirls have won.