Hollywood Myth Machine


United States
39° 2' 26.6856" N, 77° 13' 44.4684" W

I am flawless.

My skin radiates the most perfect shade of saccharine pink and my

bright blond coif of bouncing, spiraling curls

frames the womanly contours of my face.

I am iconic. And

you are hypnotized

by my 25 pairs of sparkling, turquoise eyes.

Red lips brazenly curled, I

boast my megawatt Hollywood smile.

I am loved; I am hated.

The likeness you see,

You don’t know, and never will:

A face plastered by a plastic mask,

glowing garishly in the lonely darkness.

What you see is

generated by the Hollywood myth machine.

Iam the myth,

reduced, condensed, and compacted for

mass consumption.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741