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The Cracking of a Porcelain Doll

Lonely there is a female, just a small girl in all punctuality

and she sits upon the curb of a lovely looking marble paved road

Only the road is no longer marble, it is dusted with the fragments of ash

from the cigarettes she puffs away at, every day until her lungs constrict

The boa made of exaggerated smoke always is pulling upon her air passages

never wanting to let her esophagus be cooled by crisp and clean air

Her feet are bare, frozen and bleeding, leaving drops of blood behind

trails from where she's once been, and where the girls' feet will travel

Beaten and bruised, thrown and spat out, she was the trash of society and its remains

but in all actuality, society was the men she slept with, and she, only wanting cover of the rain at night

Forced into what they called sensuality, but the young girl closes off her emotions and senses

and wished for a home to call her own, but never feeling the want in her heart enough to stay

This girls clothing is ragged, shredded and torn, wrinkled from the nights she's spent

in a strangers arms, she takes danger by the horn, receives herself a death call instead

A disease has been forming, and it grows in magnitude with each passing strangers call

thus the girl has fallen upon her knees, and the disease still finds a way to pass along its young

The female has tried to quit, with her way of life, but the bills keep a'coming, and she is still in need

the hunger inside her drives her raving mad, it is slightly ludicrous, this lunatic she's become

To feed upon a strangers flesh, to conquer her unrighteous lusting and her want

this is the girl that we see who is foolish in her ways, as she folds her hands to her breast

Hands are paled and over worked, dry and calloused never have a bout of rest

so trustful in their own ways, hardy they work like crusted placid tools

Still upon the paved road she sits, crunching her bones into a ball

her skin is increasingly thin, no wonder she gasps with pain for every movement she makes

This young girl, is young enough to let the tears cascade over her heavily dolled up face

her cosmetic encrusted eyes run, covering her make-up splashed face even more

The grime and dirt smudged upon her face from being splashed by non-helping passer byes

and her mouth is made up of a slashed and jagged pair of lips, from lipstick she put on

Smears her great complexion , with the fiery burn of stained glass that was meant for cheeks

thinning roses of auburn, painted with a closed precision, soaked with raccoon cosmetics

Fearfully she sits, silent as water, her fluid running out as if the air around

whips her inside, and eats her on the outside, it begun by freezing her skeleton over

For she was always their (as in men)collected victim and she begun to wonder why

her fellow human's never had believed her she saw through her crystal tears

That doll faced men and doll faced women, had a secret they kept

they only wanted to play God with the clown she had become

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Written by
kendal-anne
American
Published
Apr 23, 2013
Lines·Words
36·549
Notes

I'll probably change this once I actually read all of it. Cheers :))

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