Like, it got a lot worse when Ken started drinking?
Oh my God, vodka bottles all over the camper?
And I had this feeling,
the way he looked at me as if I was,
I don’t know – a flat tire.
Anyway, Botox isn’t so bad.
I mean, okay, it’s food poisoning
but you don’t see any of those hairy green circles
when they inject it into your face,
like the ones on the sour cream
when Ken decides he wants tacos for supper,
which happens like once a year and then he’s all
what’s this green shit growing on the sour cream, Barbie?
Can’t you do anything right?
You should see my lips.
Of course he’ll want to kiss me now,
and that line between my eyes? More like
a trench, I swear whole years fallen in there –
well it’s gone.
And now when I smile
it’s just like it used to be when I was younger?
As smooth as plastic. You can’t even tell
what I’m thinking.