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K Oct 6
Isn't it barbaric,
the things we've done and said?
And the way we tuck them neatly,
like cattle,
to the backs of our heads?
Isn't it barbaric,
the way I treat myself?
As though I am a stranger,
or a doll left on a shelf.
Isn't it barbaric,
the way you look at me?
So sweetly,
like you'd hold me,
for all eternity.
And isn't it barbaric,
the way that death takes life?
As though it had meant nothing,
even wrought with strife.
Jasmine dryer Sep 17
Do I need you to survive?
yes!
Is that a lie?
no!
Put your love to the test
Can you survive longer than the rest?
Oh its such a mess!
But, hey!
maybe it'll be all
ok
maybe you really deserve to
stay

hey doll,
wanna play?

"thats all you had to say"
Mia Sep 17
My old hands cannot caress her,
She’s way too weak and too fragile
I miss the way I used to dress her,
Like that white day on the aisle.

In her nightgown, she is resting
Sleeping beauty in her room,
I can hear her silent praying
She cannot escape The Doom.

Doll was gifted to my mother
From her mother to my own,
Like this blonde one, there’s no other
And if there is it’s still unknown.

I take her far into the graveyard
The stones as great as my mistakes
I tell her “Hey, I lost my mazzard”,
Will you help my brain that aches?”

In a world that hates its feathers,
It’s the world I’ve ever known
There’s only one, she never left me,
And that’s you, my favorite doll.
Ruhee Aug 15
Hey cheeky Teddy Bear!
Did they call you fat?
No, You aren't baby,
You have a wonderful warmth,
The earth looks beautiful
Through your warmth that hugs
Souls with Love and feelings..

Little Doughnut you aren't fat,
You are curvy
& Chummy Chum.

Sweet little potato
Smile a loads
Yes! You are
A Chum chum Plumy Doll.

Fathima Ruhee
Brad post Aug 1
Giddy with excitement,
she fumbled with her keys.
As the key slid home,
she grew weak in the knees.

She’d waited so long,
and it has finally come.
She’d spent a small fortune,
and the thing weighed a ton.

She pushed in the package,
starting to sweat,
and suddenly realized,
her ******* were wet.

She slid a finger inside her,
and let out a moan,
trembling slightly,
all the way to the bone.

Gathering herself,
she locked the door tight,
and forced herself to calm down,
gathering all her might.

Getting down on her knees,
she opened the box,
brushing away the packing,
like styrofoam rocks.

When she saw his face,
she sat up *****.
He was so lifelike,
and anatomically correct.

Reaching into the box,
she caressed his face.
He was beautifully sculpted,
not a thing out of place.

Then she ran her hands,
down his chest to his groin,
caressing his ****,
feeling the warmth in her *****.

It was bigger than expected,
as long as her forearm.
The biggest she’d had,
but this raised no alarm.

Taking her time,
she arranged him on the bed.
Even laying a pillow,
under his head.

Running her fingers through his hair,
she began to undress.
Doing it slowly,
cause slowly was best.

He was more than a doll,
more than plastic parts.
He would never hurt her,
or break her heart.

She crawled on all fours,
in between his thighs,
running her fingers over him,
as she stared into his eyes.

Then she filled her mouth,
******* gently at first,
and then she filled her throat,
trying to quench her thirst.

She was dripping now,
so exquisitely wet,
and moaning deeply,
like a good little pet.

The doll lay still,
as she mounted it slow.
She was lost in her pleasure,
as something brushed her toe.

She opened her eyes,
as a hand grabbed her throat,
and another her breast,
her vision starting to float.

She struggled for air,
and felt a ****** as it moved,
and a soft moan escaped it,
as the blackness consumed.

Bucking and fighting,
she clawed at its face,
but it simply slid deeper,
and quickened its pace.

She stared down into eyes,
that were filled with life,
and features so sharp,
as to be carved by a knife.

It’s beauty was gone,
simply melted away,
seeming to flow freely,
as if made from soft clay.

As her vision faded,
it moved inside her,
whispering “my princess”,
in a soft little purr.
Von Jul 7
In a world rife with liars,
I must paste a smile on my face
to protect my own self
day after day.
I'm just like a broken doll,
you see?

Ah... How strange.

I can't smile anymore
143 Jun 28
There’s a little porcelain doll I come to tell all my worries to
Worries that I can’t seem to tell you
Particularly nights this week I’ve found myself whispering in her ear
Telling her everything that I’ve come to fear
As I tell her more and more I start to notice her weep
Her glass has cracked where her tears would be
Making me fear that these secrets I’ve said might be too hard to keep
Her tears of cracked glass will soon spread, shattering her mouth
Spilling all my worries and fears for your own ears to hear.
Ashley Kaye Jun 25
a hand
a hello
an embrace
What flesh do you hold
Who does it belong
to

i feel as a doll
in its playhouse
Trudging between plastic
bright, wallpaper rooms
Daises and lavish paisley
peeling

Will I ever trust the very heart
on my sleeve
let alone place it
in your hands
Meaning is like words
It is claimed, they are said
Truth remains elusive
from reality
June 2019
Mythical May 25
There it stands tall and small,
Skinny to the bones,
With pale glass skin,
Looking straight ahead..

Dark cold beady eyes,
With radiant red lips sealed the lies,
Oriented clothes tied tightly by the waist,
Hair in a black bun...

Holding a golden cup,
Where at night she whispers to it,
If listen closely you might hear her silent screams,
Just be aware of the beauty it holds..

Another chilling tale of the Doll,
That haunts my every movement,
Who watches me,
Whenever I tried to sleep...
Anne J May 21
Strings around porcelain skin
Bruises that are so thin
Skin never grows
Face never shows never feels
Twirl can she ever
For my art project, I took my first poem on this site and made a black out poetry of it.
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