She was only a little more
than thin
But he called her
“Fat Twiggy”
Since she had chosen to have
Short hair
Just another disapointment for him
He had to be in control of something
So he filled their lives with sarcasm
That cut as though
They had all committed suicide
Scars
That stayed and stayed
And would not wash off
Even with the attention of a functional
Lover. 
But whom did they attract?
Weak men with the need to 
See them as wanting
See them as bleeding
They bent to a will of straw
As though it were iron
They saw it as iron
But failed to feel its heat
Burning into the flesh
Of their brains
Building onto what they knew
To be their truth.