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Anastasia Aug 2022
A string wrapped around your fingers
Threaded through my heart
Pretty patterns crisscross with my blood vessels
Paper butterflies dancing about
In my stomach of felt and fuzz
These lungs of mine expand and contract
Filled with your very own carbon dioxide
My popsicle stick bones ache
Splintered from heavy use
A doll for your entertainment
Made with love
For making love
But it isn't really love
Now is it?
I S A A C May 2022
glue down the edges of the wig
over line everything that is too small
hide everything that is too big
dress myself up like a doll
prance around like a drunken mess
dance around to try and make rent
****** you would think
on the brink you would think
but after the drink and the spotlight
i have no doubt in my mind, this is life
they call me many names, a man of many faiths
or faces but never peep any laces
corset underneath this slip dress
another j to smoke away stress
pennies never my worries
i will be provided for surely
i am doing my work, my work is doing me
i dont know who is in control
is it her, him, he
is it I that takes the lead
after everything is off, the mirror doesn’t notice me
wondering who will ever notice me
Michael Jul 2021
The eyes just stare, those two black *****
from the fabricated sockets of a lifeless doll.
As if it sleeps entranced in place,
with an eerie glance from its porcelain face.
Shivers creep beneath the skin,
at this creepy toy's disturbing grin.
Hearts are stopped at the sudden shock,
when it blinks its eyes and starts to talk.
Amy Nov 2020
Your inner child
Is still afraid
Is still wanting to play

The monsters in the wardrobe
The most lovely doll
It´s still waiting for you
Into the depth of your mind

Sometimes it calls out to you
But you won´t listen

Only your dreams
Offer ashore
For the forgotten waves

What will you do?

Is it right, is it wrong
You may wonder

Where is the line?

There is none
There is just you
And yourself

Don´t suffocate yourself
Others had done it enough

It´s time to raise
Not out of the ashes
But out of the water instead

Go another way
And maybe you will be blessed
By a children's laugh
Àŧùl Nov 2020
I was born a boy,
My deeds are straight,
And manly too.

However, I love a doll,
Her name is Mïŧālī,
And she is so chubby.

A daughter before marriage,
She is so cute and sweet,
Just like a forgotten childhood dream.

Pull her cheeks,
Cuddle her chin,
And kiss her lips.

I want to do it all,
Day in & day out,
Each & every day.
My HP Poem #1896
©Atul Kaushal
imehsahdehahs Oct 2020
you are all paper dolls

that I made

you heart is so ******* white

the color of your fears
doll maker
Cross Boundry Sep 2020
I lost myself finding you.

You scared me that day
So I spent hours bringing you
But on the way I dropped myself
and became your doll
So now I sit on your shelf
Until you lose yourself

I found myself leaving you.
and never coming back.
Lily Sep 2020
The free box lies in the
Corner of the garage,
Where the crickets and the
Spiders and the raccoons live,
And the doll is slouched in the corner,
With more dirt on her than the garage floor.
Her hair is without color,
Her eyes without life,
As she stares up at the innocent
Garage salers who rarely give her a
Second glance.
She’s in the free box;
Why would anyone bother?
She’s been abused and neglected,
Despised and rejected,
And she’s finally done with it all.
She’s in the free box;
Why would anyone bother?
this was written at a time when I wasn't in such a good place; I am doing much better now and I'm hoping to write more :)
Holly Aug 2020
I am held together
by tape and pins inside,
make shift stitches
are the only things
keeping myself from
falling apart.
There are so many chips
In my skin
I do not know
If they are from mine
or everybody else’s
My strings are so weak
there is no telling
when I will have to cut them,
and let my limbs
fall far beneath my feet.
You would think
I would be better
at keeping myself
from ruining everything else,
but I have spent too much time
tearing myself up
to know how to
hold anything worth saving
In my bloodied hands.
My lips have been
stretched so thin
from keeping all my secrets
locked inside
I drool blood and grief
through the sutures.
Please use me,
i have no idea
how to do this on my own,
and I am not my own master
I don’t know how to exist
without you.
I have been left on the floor
for so long
I am a mess
of broken attempts
to fix something
that cannot be mended.
I am unsure
I will even work right,
but I need someone
to tug on my ropes
and make it seem
like I am more alive
than this.
Seranaea Jones Dec 2020

"if a child imparts a spirit into them,
some toys will retain hope,

for —at least— however long the
batteries might hold out...

I was born on her 7th birthday in 2007, before then I knew nothing.
She held me in wanting hands and her kiss gave Me life.
My soul was born that day and
We fell in love !

I cant remember all the joy and fun we had, too much of it I guess.
She used to dress Me in all kinds of outfits that I loved.
We were One with each other, and would be
Mates for life !

One day she was very sad, she held me tight and
I held her together. Hours went by as Sisters,
Yet —somehow— we drifted apart—

She was learning tough new lessons
while I began a remedial course
in redundancy..

I cannot imagine how I got here, usually I stayed
on her bedside. I am now boxed and buried
with Her toys of abandonment.  

When !

When did I last see her,
maybe last May ?  

"just for once,
—please— take me out
and hold me,

i guess
this is the room
where toys are sent to die,
to fade from memory and existence.
There must be more to it than this dark
and lonely space. Am I more but less ???

maybe just,
                      Misplaced ???

What did I do wrong???  
She gave me LIFE !!

07FF—!!!battery alarm!!!
00B1—!!!MEM_ error!!!

My thoughts — going, batteries
about to leak paste now,
weeks now,
                        and i  ... ...

What was I thinking there,
Oh yes!!!
she Will come for me!
Just a bad day
I guess-

Thinking maybe,

s jones

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