Imagine me in your embrace,*
I'd give it all but this just isn't the place!
A disgrace I must confess-
I had your heart yet failed your test.
I gave you my paw my love and time.
I was denied and lied and was put back in my bag,
It's color green like lime.
There was a way not to fall behind,
But I'm just not good enough to be your bear kind.

Dear dolly,
you always seem so jolly.
I wonder if your smile is pure
Or if you just stitched it as a temporary cure
For all the madness that has been flowing through

Your soul that has never coexisted
with your fabricated flesh
I ponder the way you think
and the reason why you never blink
But you seem to look good in pink

Didn't think you'll love the dark shade of red
splashed through the sheets of a bed
From your blade's sharp end

I wonder who'll you ****** tonight
since the moon is out without a bite

When I was a little girl, I loved to play with dolls.
On Christmas morning, I would wake up
And a beautiful, pristine little doll sat beneath the tree.
Encased within those shiny plastic walls,
Displayed like a piece of fine art at a museum.
                            — Except, I could never stay behind the red velvet rope.

I snipped, and slashed, and cut away,
Until her plastic fortress was breached.
She was mine.
I stroked her soft, fine hair,
Feeling the silky strands upon my fingertips
And I whispered in her ear
“I will love you forever”.
She looked upon me
With bright blues eyes,
Rose painted lips,
And a compliant smile.
I knew she was mine.

And then I would play…

Yank the blue polka dot dress off her slender figure
And contort her delicate frame into any position I pleased.
She was mine to love.
Mine to control.
Shoved her into my backpack and brought her to school
Grubby little fingers reached out to play with her:
The girls playing dress up,
The boys playing dress down.

And now, her once silky hair,
brittle strands of straw,
So wild and tangled no comb could soothe.
Raced to the kitchen, grabbed the scissors
And hacked away furiously,
Somehow believing I could fix her
With the very scissors I used to break her protective walls.

Now found myself staring wistfully at the dolls with long shinny hair
When my mother took me to the department store.

Then one day, as I played with her in the backyard,
A leg popped off and would not go back on.
So I threw her disfigured body in the trash
Atop the rotting carrot peels and broken egg shells.
That compliant smile shone through,
Begging me to take her back…
                     — But I had a new doll now.

Years later, when my childish things were packed away in the attic,
I sat upon the park bench in my blue polka dot dress,
With shimmering locks cascading softly upon my collarbones.
And you told me I was your Mona Lisa.
You told me, “I will love you forever”.
I smiled
And promised I would do anything to make you happy.

But then you started coming home
With alcohol on your breath and wrath in your eyes.
And struck me for all the things I did wrong.
I said I was sorry,
Promised to do anything to make you happy.

But it was never enough.
You threw me upon the bed with fury glittering in your crimson orbs.
Took me with carnal lust
That never seemed to ease the hate.
And left me broken,
With blue fingerprints imprinted upon my porcelain skin.
— And never came back

Now, when people ask me why I never let my daughter play with dolls,
I reply:
Some things are better left in the box.

Sitting in line, my dolls all still
Figurines sitting dressed up features
Frozen in that moment
Placid
Stagnant
Soundless
As all lips sealed with a sewn kiss,
"Never do they speak"
"Silence is there skill"  
Death seeps from staring eyes,
"They are the perfection I killed for",
Never would I wish for such perfection
But it only lasts so long as all flowers
Wilt
My dolls I hunt for, not anyone will do
They have to be a
Height,
Weight,
Beauty
Instilled, for me to appreciate them,
But those that fall, damaged in some way
Not as pristine,
"To the dumpster they must go"
I am called the "Doll Maker"
Perfection of eternal beauty Is my goal,
Features must be symmetrical
Not any face will do,
I will search for those of
Beauty
Exquisiteness
Symmetry
Is my model of perfection, those
Unsightly
Repugnant
Proportions
Not to my qualities, have no fear
You are beneath my view
Only the beautiful I seek,
"I Love My Silent Dolls"
Dressed sitting quietly still,
I am the
"Doll Maker"
For beauty & perfection I am willing to ******