Plastic house small and dark,
Ghost haunts the remains
Windows smashed, door locked, knob turns
History’s pains lingers, silently stays
Doll beheaded, fragile arms at side
Obedient stillness, loyal and hushed
Eyes a tearful permanence, dark smile stitched
Barely together, the softness ripped, heart is crushed
Hearing needled in, hair split between the cloth
Soul and structure, separation of within
Sight split between the threads
Spirit and fabric, separation of skin
Marionette of the darkness that lives
Why do you continue to be?
Motionless and useless these days
And yet still you lie before me?
An x replaces where the heart should be seen
No life within yet you exist in this nothingness
Do you not crave for the skin instead the stitches?
Fragile, helpless, and frail in the loneliness.
I hide you behind the small plastic door
Where still you wait for nothing and behave
The fake smile needled in starts to fade
And I lay you inside your forgotten grave.
