Curse Of The Jewellery Box Girl

She twists,
She turns,
Trapped in that mirrored jewellery box of hers,
Spinning,
Spinning for all of eternity for us to see.

She twists,
She turns,
She contorts on our demands,
Sold her soul for immortal fame and beauty to always be hers.
She chose to become the star of the show.
The belle of the ball.

So do not pity her.

The screams more than she could hope for,
More than she could control.
The pressure beats down on her,
With each pivot step she takes,
With each yell for more she gets.
With each outfit she wears.

So the needles come out,
With the liquid divine,
She does not pause,
She does not think,
She stabs herself.
To help her cope with this reality she chose.

Each scream, she stabs.
Each step, she stabs.
Each rehearsal,
Each deal signed, she stabs.
The more fame she gets, her addiction grew, causing her to find relief the only way she knew.

So was it any surprise,
In her dressing room,
As the stage was set,
Prepared for her biggest show yet!
That she was found dead,
Killed by the needles stuck in her non-virgin flesh.

The only memento left of her passing,
A little mirrored jewellery box with herself spinning around and around for our pleasure for eternity.
A smile on her face, pain in her eyes as she spins around.
She couldn't escape, even in death, the deal she made with the devils.

Guess she got what she wanted in the end...

©minxyMolly