kate moss gets all e.e. cummings up in a motherf*cker

a friend emailed me a news report alleging kate moss has turned to poetry as she weathers the publicity maelstrom surrounding her cocaine use.

we did some digging and found a nugget of her newfound wisdom:

What Matters is What Is Underneath
by Katherine Taylor Ubaldine Mossberg

What matters is what's underneath
What lies beneath this pure silk sheath
Is skin tattered and torn from my days as a cutter
And a touch of flab from a binge with a yummy stick of butter.

What matters is what you can't see
Those inner parts that define me
A will that aches for one more taste
Of rock cocaine that I can freebase

What matter most is not for your eyes
Funny, I'm a model, pretty, such irony
You think this is some god damned joke
But I'm telling all you bitches what matters is my coke.

What you think this fuckin is?
Some finishing school for aristocratic kids?
I'm a supermodel, bitches, this shit is for real
Unless you're gooped up on the glop, how are you supposed to deal?
One minute you're sashaying all over the place
And the next, Naomi bitch slaps you across your face.
If you have to ask why, I'm afraid you'll never know
Quit breathing so hard on the mirror, girl, you're fucking with my blow.

What matters most is underneath
The parts of which you'll never see
97 pounds of bone and skin
and enough cocaine to do a motherfucker in.

Sylvia Plath ain't got shit on me. Kate Moss what?! What!?