they say i'm like a doll,
with porcelain skin and
fragile limbs, but i'm not
the one sitting complacently
by my bed. he came
in a box, and he smiled
the same plastic smile
every time i played
him. i smiled too,
and the way he sat
by my bed every night
gave us plenty of time
to play. but i only want
what i can't have, and
his plastic smile faded
as i found new toys and carried
them into bed. he kept waiting,
patiently, since it's so hard
to tell when you've been
outgrown. but he noticed
that new plastic smiles
kept looking back at him,
sitting by the bed. he noticed how
i only ever came around
when my bed was empty and
my heart was full. and then
he'd fill me up, because
that's what boy toys do.
they say i'm like a doll,
but when you play with porcelain
limbs, you always end up
stepping on the pieces.