Star-Struck

Going to a mall is always enough to give me an existential crisis and make me contemplate the collective mentality of my generation.

Murky sea of dead-eyed mannequins,

void of substance save for beer,

drifting around a colossal stone-faced totem.

 

"Mommy always said I'd be a star", she droned,

caressing the five-pointed burn

smeared across the left side of her face.

 

Later tonight she will masturbate to Pinocchio,

contemplating dandelions and driftwood.