Porcelain Dolls Can't Breathe.
Eye lids slowly rise
Two peaked brows
Signifying an arch of innocense.
Masked in the depths of
Porcelain and perfection
Cool skin desgined with
The finest porcelain selection
She masters a paint-by-numbers kit.
Bits.-
Of her delicate psyche
Strewn along the floor
Placed on a metal shelf
And sold
As if this doll were a whore
With he now the merchant
He drags his purchase through the door
But, this doll she hasn't yet fallen.
Stalling.-
The crash
Right to the ground
But, when she finally does
Will she even make a sound?
She opens her mouth
Just the same; nothing comes out.
Has this doll been forbidden to speak?
Weak.-
Is this lord of hell that she seeks
As he grazes one finger
Along the cheek
Of her porcelain skin.
That he longs to caress
Obsess-
Over.
And, posess.
Self deluded and righteous
Narcissim reeks
He has an undying need
To fix something that is broken.
Choking.-
She sits, impossible!
She cannot even breathe
Nor can she think
Speak, Walk or see
Yet, astonishingly enough
Her value; it only increases.
[...] Read more
poem by Nicole Settimi
Added by Poetry Lover
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