I see a manufactured doll
	on the train
		living out her doll-like life

reading a mag -
	filling her pretty pink mind
		with manufactured thoughts

mascara on her lashes,
	cheeks brushed slightly with rouge
		quite lost in doll-like dreams

I guess at existential qualms
	lost in her vacant gaze
		and start a wry smile on my face

like ivy matted thick on walls
	a thick makeup of some life desired
		grows over her stifled self

a self so lost, buried so deep
	there's nothing now behind those eyes
		at least, no hint of worth to me

and then, lost in this thought, I'm caught
	contempt reflected back at me
		as her gaze traps my gaze on her

there it is - some strange look she gives
	some strange freak she thinks I am
		with stripes shaved in my beard

I feel... feel like some blight,
	untidy and offensive stain
		upon her neat and tidy world

the mere existence
	of my self-invented kind
		violates her doll-like soul

so she averts her eyes
	to save from seeing
		this thing that is not made for her

her eyes transfixed now on herself,
	reflections of a perfect form
		how could she love one more than her?

reflecting in the window
	she sits beside herself
		a clone beside a clone

and in my mind, I penetrate
	into her soft facade -
		her liquid center oozes forth