URBAN VIBEs DEC 2015 | Page 31

REALIST BITCH?dy:DOSH She walked in skin almost white from black as night, her eyes were blue where they use to be brown, Her ghetto Barbie blond wig lace fronted her hair line as her black roots were left to wither and die under the toxins. Her gold coated vulture claws occasionally scratched the flakey scalp that now peeled under the concealed head of someone else’s foreign hair, yet she keeps screaming with conviction “I’m the realist bitch”. Perched upon her 5 inch red bottom stilettos her 40 inch plastic posterior set perky under a 24inch waist of hidden cuts and missing ribs. She brags on her six pack, big backs, perky silicone and reconstituted fat. O, but she’s the realist bitch. She dresses for the occasion in animal furs carrying her teacup puppy in a chinchilla bag, craving the cameras of the paparazzi and then complaining as if they are deviants that color her mad. Her pouty protruding Botoxxed duck lips stay glossy as they spit lies of self delusion from beneath her comedy zone that she now calls cheek bones that seems to have made themselves quite friendly with her eye socket. She squints with her newly tightened slits of vision and screeches in her fake poutiness “that’s right, I’m the realist bitch”. Tattooed Neck twisting, hands on her hilariously disproportioned hips, rhinoplasty barley able to sniff. She use to be a beautiful black girl, now she’s a pale image of an anorexic Asian with white girl features, an uptown appetite and 110th st. attitude. But she insists, “I’m the realist bitch”. Exert in “theRANDOMS”HOUSEofPOETRY vl.4 imvu 3d room product. She says she still loves her black skin all though the bleaching cream keeps coming in, she no longer hangs with Shanika, Tamika or Tionna, there too ethnic, that would ruin her persona Nothing more …. 31