Gossamer binds my heart to my head
To my stomach, encroaching on my limbs
And you gurgle in my throat, threatening
All day long.
Mummy! Mummy! Not only will I never yell it,
I’ll never hear it yelled.
I feel like He ripped from my hand
Every facet of my dreamy Sundays
My recurring dream has Caesar’d me
And laughed.
Then I remember it’s not like that
I weep for snowy Christmases, sporting prowess:
For what I never had.
That’s possibly the worst part;
I brought this upon myself,
Plotted my own downfall since I was five
Since I dived head first into my
Doll’s house.