As they made you up to be like others,
If they only had looked into your eyes
Past the girl next door and to the mother.
You, their ugly duckling, little hunchback
Became film history for them but not
Because of them; their whips could only crack,
And break the skin. Your wounds from this would clot.
But scars of insecurity remained
The memory of caps to cover teeth,
Breasts bound up with tape, your curves contained
Denial of the woman grown beneath.
Addictions formed to bare the acting blitz
Self-overdosage of barbiturates.