Delusional Masterpiece

He thought he could mold me into his masterpiece,
taking my soul to places I would never reach.
Is that not what they all think?
They place themselves in my sky, 
expecting me to believe they are the sun,
the givers and takes of the world I live in.
Painting stars in my eyes, flashing moonbeams against my thighs.
He took one look at me, thinking I needed what he could do, 
the endless possibilities  of the beauty he could fill me up with.
Add a little make-up, place me on a parade, a perfect trophy for the man he is.
They are all the same in the end,
little boys who only think they know what they want,
a breathing Barbie who cooks like their mother and fucks like a porn star.
He believed he could beat the spirit out of me, destroy my resolve to be who I am,
and replace my sky with frumped up promises and white washed lies.