Porcelain begins to shatter These dolls we all know to well Looking past beyond the laughter There is a story to tell: Up on our shelves you eye us everyday You pull us down, you want to play Our bodies hit the floor In pieces, you don't want us anymore
Porcelain put back together You aren't done playing yet Our skins stained, our clothes rags, tattered We still can never forget: In a corner catching dust You never ever cleaned us up We're left alone lying, traumatized Unwanted in your hungry eyes
Porcelain isn't the better Our shards, they cut your hand And your feet, you should've never Played rough, do you understand? Fragile, you never handled us with care Our bodies break, our clothes you tear Now you're the one who bleeding We're thrown away, defeated
Along the grass,beneath the sky The draconic sun vitrified The lover figurines. Flattening them Adjacent to the surface, Skin blent in crackly tessellation, Deforming to fit the sphere,adhering to it's Wondrous silence. Frail limbs minute,heart's heavy as whole islands.
Is it not love embodied to lay defined as an image? To be held as shatterless glass,reflecting it's deity's melting In progress, 'neath the star that impelled a shelter, The star that paved their meeting,that overlooked Their life and death in a predetermined stasis, The divinity that shimmered underfoot at all times, The star that held all places of the earth in one.
The figurine lovers, faceless mannikinis Sentenced to worship forever without a choice, For prior love, for prior sins, It matters not--they rot and twist as the Sun's play-dice.