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#marionette
Humans are confusing they carry out secret cues, unspoken lines they expect me to follow; Perfect facades. One thing I have never understood as a child, nor now — The constant veneer, I am expected, expected repeatedly, to uphold. Imperfections locked away, performing happiness like some kind of puppet, a doll because that's what the people, that's what society likes to see! Make them laugh, offer support, automated replies because that's what makes them smile. I drown beneath this masquerade mask, hung by my own marionette strings and still I try to convince myself that maybe this time they will notice? The curtains are drawn my limbs clatter to the ground strings tangled facade cracked. Surrounded by the wilted petals each a gift from my audience; They love me, they love me not. It doesn't really matter I'll have to perform either way or at least, that's what I tell myself as I polish this mask once again.
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Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 8:02 AM UTC
Behind the purple curtain,
thorns penetrating my soft, innocent skin, vines suffocating me. vines suffocating me this harsh current fighting my every move restricting my individuality. i always find a way to let my words out through my puppets with strings, yet, i cannot make these roses dance. broken and withered away from this winter grip, there is no life in these branches no color, no emotion, no strings for me to weave my way out with. imprisoned, my art has no values. i have no room for my puppets to perform. my passion shortened and smooshed just like my legs that are forcibly intertwined with each other. Get me out of this God **** bush.
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Jan 26
Jan 26, 2026 at 9:44 PM UTC
marionette in a thorn bush
In the light of the moon, porcelain skin gleams, Eyes beaded, features stitched, unmoving it seems. Silent I stand, with no voice to share, No heart to feel, in the puppeteer's lair. Bright strings pull at my delicate limbs, Twisting and turning, to my master's whims. A captive of fate, a prisoner of will, A soulless vessel, forever still. In the symphony of shadows, I long to break free, To find who I am, to find the real me.
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Dec 10, 2024
Dec 10, 2024 at 12:30 PM UTC
Marionette
wires in my head acid runs through my veins my body moves by thread thy got me they got me they got me now i am like the rest of them lonely marionette
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Jun 3, 2024
Jun 3, 2024 at 6:15 AM UTC
Marionette
Like marionettes, dancing, swirling, jibing moved by strings of their desires. Their bodies set ablaze, by the fiction of their hides. Despairing to escape by any means, keeping their mem'ries in the haze. Aimlessly thrusting til' Tilda tires; swinging, struggling, scathing, like marionettes. And when the zenith is reached, comes a fleeting sense of victory. Their point of contact comes to an end. ***** hollow, and soul still empty. Like marionettes.
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Feb 19, 2024
Feb 19, 2024 at 2:34 AM UTC
Marionette /ˈmerēəˌnet/
why are you there and not by my side sharing my bed slide inside my head and make yourself at home pick me apart dissect, and use my tendons your marionette man
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Mar 6, 2022
Mar 6, 2022 at 11:11 PM UTC
Marionette
You are just a marionette In your masters deathgrip Release yourself and make it To the other side
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Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 2:35 PM UTC
Marionette
My wardrobe's full of sparkly dresses But I don't know anymore who to wear them for My life's excess has sustained the press I asked for more, became their darling ***** They gave me a glass cage and called it a home Put me on a cross and called it a throne Danced like a ballerina in hopes to please The hungry abonnés should fulfill my wish Spotlight on the stage replaced my sun I'm a property of everyone And I sometimes think I do regret Selling myself as a marionette... Ruffled hemline dresses, different shiny gowns Nightly royal dance ball in different shiny towns Smiling to impress and not to express A damsel should not let them see her distress They gave me a noose and called it a necklace Told me to patch up my porcelain crevice Broke my fingers to make it fit into the shoes Stitched my lips into a smile, romanticized this abuse Camera flashes replaced my stars-- A price to pay for a superstar And I always think I do regret Selling myself as a marionette... Arms tied with hard strings Lips sealed for the ventriloquist And I do, I do, I do regret Selling myself as a marionette.
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Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC
The Marionette
Blue sadness drips from long tired eyes, her star weeps alone filling entire oceans with the salt of life lived not living, but dangling from strings, a marionette's fate.
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Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
Strings
She sits in silence upon the bed hands folded neatly, but with drooping head. Her gossamer chords, silvery and fair float gently through the winter's evening air. Slowly his music fills her hollow form as she waits for him to strum her gossamer chords. A dancing silhouette, bending to his will spiraling, swirling, or capriciously still. His fingers dance across those gossamer chords as she silently floats across the floor. Tirelessly she performs the night through never once missing her cue. As his haunting music begins to fade and he slowly turns away. She slumps back against the bed hands folded neatly, but with drooping head. ALesiach © 02/16/2015
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Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 6:15 PM UTC
Marionette
You think you are free? Free to stand on our own feet. Dare to cut the ropes.
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Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 8:31 AM UTC
Marionettes
last night i had a dream so real- i wish it was. theres a burrow in there. a nook. a tunnel. that wakes at its mention. like a marionette for its final dance. i try to keep all the **** i dont have figured out in there. theres a lock on it but i kept the key too. its somewhere on my chain with the others. the key might be two gin cocktailes and not eating for awhile. i found a place that i left behind. it still holds the things i look for.
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
keymaker
He is sad  As he is a bet  He is dead  Is all they bet. All they want is a bet  Causing his life to be a duet  Between him and regret  All he knows, his life is a threat. He knows, he is just an epithet  His tears making him wet  A brief vignette  They turn him into a marionette.
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
Marionette
Once upon a time... not too long ago You told me that you loved me and that you would go and help me grow I was but a block of wood, you carved delicately Creating me into a doll ever so elegantly Painting precise intricate details eloquently Doe eyes, rosy cheeks, sun-kissed lips; your compassion showed evidently Sunrise after sundown, my love grew for you genuinely Months had passed, and seasons followed Blissful memories, euphoric moments, fleeting hours; borrowed Left with a barren soul, bone dried driftwood, abandoned; hollowed Your neglected Marionette, once glowed, now dull with dust Loveless wooden puppet fading, metal joints rust Instead of adoration reflected in painted eyes, it’s now mistrust Yet still bound to you by more than just these strings and rings I’m chained to you, but not by mere material things I would have done anything with just a twist of your wrist because you used to adore me Marionette and her Manipulator; a Stockholm Syndrome-like love story A classic literary tale that’s lost all its profound romantic glory A Puppeteer wrenching till I’m dangling upon severed wires Strung along filthy pavements, dropped into grimy potholes; I’m tired Blood sweat and tears, love became my biggest fear When I needed and longed for you; you’d not appear Every single emotion to the smallest detail; controlled Each slight movement without exception foretold A Ventriloquist voicing every word caught in my throat Your time of day to me you once did devote With roughened yet soft hands holding my body close Crooked smile spreading upon lips as you gently tap my nose Soothing fingers running through my hair; it was me you chose Your passion drained out like the now dried bouquet of roses; romantic doses An author of the finest of fictions; poems, and letters to me once composed Now I hang in your hands upon limp worn out strings, ready to dispose Time and actions have shown the truth behind your spoken words; exposed And it blows air kisses of nothingness And you know what I’m tired of this, Your High-Neglectfulness What used to be a loving hand became a hateful rod And you still think you’re some kind of god, but you’re just a facade I’ve seen the way you caress those other dolls; infidelity not discreet Honeyed words slip off those lips, drip; a game you cheat All tricks and no treat, candy wrapped lies that tasted too sweet Deliciously virulent deception rolling off that tongue of yours Bending to your wires have given me enough torturous sores How I wish I had been created with wings instead of decaying strings And the strife it brings like squeaky swings that just keep squeaking, creaking A forsaken Marionette who’s every move was to please you Trapped in this dollhouse zoo, with no appreciation in view So then I’ll sing, I’ve got no strings to hold me down To force my smile and push me to the ground I had strings, but I said no more I cut these strings and stepped out the door You’re no longer my master, nor my sky I’ll fly without you and my oh my More so than Pinnochio I cannot tell a lie Even my wooden wings can fly
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
“Sincerely, Your Marionette”
Once upon a time... not too long ago You told me that you loved me and that you would go and help me grow I was but a block of wood, you carved delicately Creating me into a doll ever so elegantly Painting precise intricate details eloquently Doe eyes, rosy cheeks, sun-kissed lips; your compassion showed evidently Sunrise after sundown, my love grew for you genuinely Months had passed, and seasons followed Blissful memories, euphoric moments, fleeting hours; borrowed Left with a barren soul, bone dried driftwood, abandoned; hollowed Your neglected Marionette, once glowed, now dull with dust Loveless wooden puppet fading, metal joints rust Instead of adoration reflected in painted eyes, it’s now mistrust Yet still bound to you by more than just these strings and rings I’m chained to you, but not by mere material things I would have done anything with just a twist of your wrist because you used to adore me Marionette and her Manipulator; a Stockholm Syndrome-like love story A classic literary tale that’s lost all its profound romantic glory A Puppeteer wrenching till I’m dangling upon severed wires Strung along filthy pavements, dropped into grimy potholes; I’m tired Blood sweat and tears, love became my biggest fear When I needed and longed for you; you’d not appear Every single emotion to the smallest detail; controlled Each slight movement without exception foretold A Ventriloquist voicing every word caught in my throat Your time of day to me you once did devote With roughened yet soft hands holding my body close Crooked smile spreading upon lips as you gently tap my nose Soothing fingers running through my hair; it was me you chose Your passion drained out like the now dried bouquet of roses; romantic doses An author of the finest of fictions; poems, and letters to me once composed Now I hang in your hands upon limp worn out strings, ready to dispose Time and actions have shown the truth behind your spoken words; exposed And it blows air kisses of nothingness And you know what I’m tired of this, Your High-Neglectfulness What used to be a loving hand became a hateful rod And you still think you’re some kind of god, but you’re just a facade I’ve seen the way you caress those other dolls; infidelity not discreet Honeyed words slip off those lips, drip; a game you cheat All tricks and no treat, candy wrapped lies that tasted too sweet Deliciously virulent deception rolling off that tongue of yours Bending to your wires have given me enough torturous sores How I wish I had been created with wings instead of decaying strings And the strife it brings like squeaky swings that just keep squeaking, creaking A forsaken Marionette who’s every move was to please you Trapped in this dollhouse zoo, with no appreciation in view So then I’ll sing, I’ve got no strings to hold me down To force my smile and push me to the ground I had strings, but I said no more I cut these strings and stepped out the door You’re no longer my master, nor my sky I’ll fly without you and my oh my More so than Pinnochio I cannot tell a lie Even my wooden wings can fly
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Snapped marionette clings to the ceiling, watching. Ragdoll under man.
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC
Dissociation Haiku
I wonder if my life And all of its things Is held up by A set of strings It just seems to me That every day Someone else Is deciding my ways I wonder if I am really me Or if someone else Decides who I'll be And I wonder if I'll lose this bet And remain A marionette I wonder if I should be this way Or if it's better To break away What I wonder most In all of these things Who is the one Pulling these strings Is it someone close Or a large crowd That keeps me from saying What I wish to aloud And I wonder if I'll lose this bet And remain A marionette I wonder if I should be this way Or if it's better To break away If I break these strings Will I crash as I fall Or will I learn To fly above it all And I wonder if I'll lose this bet And remain A marionette I wonder if I should be this way Or if it's better To break away
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Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
Marionette
even when i am winged i am benign, i am beginning. walking with my feet tied so loosely to the concrete by puppet strings; made of words & cream & other fragile things not to be touched, only to dream. a marionette trembling with grabby fingers pulling & drooling oil onto my chest - heavy, but it will leave me slick not sticky, ready for the finale.
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:53 AM UTC
marionette
Sitting out on a bench Thinking, maybe I should run and impale myself on that fence In the garage at the beams I take a glance Maybe I should tie a rope and do the marionette death dance Swallow a bunch of pills Or take a gun and cure my ills I knew there was a price for love Now watch me fall with that finale shove Falling down that rabbit hole Will I come back, I really don't know
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Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 6:32 PM UTC
Price of Love
The words I create, I rarely do comprehend, The meanings behind them, the messages they do send, I am not the poet or the god, I am just the messenger, A marionette in the masterpiece theatre, Am I the created or am I the creator?
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 4:15 AM UTC
The Dilemma Of A Poet
. **    |                                       |                                              |     |                                       |                                              |     |                                       |                                              |      |                                    •arches                                      |      |                                 up top bef-                                   |    |                               ore tapering                                   |    |                                   down to                                      |    |                                       the                                           |     |                                                                                     ooo        |                   ooo    bottom•a sym-      ooooo         ooo    o    |              oooo    bol that holds my en-     oooo      ooo |       oooo        tirety for ransom•a hos-      oooooo   |   ooo              tage situation that made          ooo     ooo                   me so willing•truss me                         ooo              up, bound...  i am not                       oo            fighting•call this in-                         oo            sensibility... name                          ooo                  this foolery•i am                       ... but a branch dangling off |                           a  tree•                            |   |                call                           thus            |   |           me   an                        i   am           |   |          idiot... la-                 the doll,          |     |            bel  me a              from  oth-         |     |            nitwit•for          ers, set far          |     |                i only                    apart•           |     |     have my                             i am the     |     | strings...                                      marione-     i am but                                             tte who's a limp                                                        after pup-                                              your      pet•                                         heart•** .
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Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
Love Fool
. **    |                                       |                                              |     |                                       |                                              |     |                                       |                                              |      |                                    •arches                                      |      |                                 up top bef-                                   |    |                               ore tapering                                   |    |                                   down to                                      |    |                                       the                                           |     |                                                                                     ooo        |                   ooo    bottom•a sym-      ooooo         ooo    o    |              oooo    bol that holds my en-     oooo      ooo |       oooo        tirety for ransom•a hos-      oooooo   |   ooo              tage situation that made          ooo     ooo                   me so willing•truss me                         ooo              up, bound...  i am not                       oo            fighting•call this in-                         oo            sensibility... name                          ooo                  this foolery•i am                       ... but a branch dangling off |                           a  tree•                            |   |                call                           thus            |   |           me   an                        i   am           |   |          idiot... la-                 the doll,          |     |            bel  me a              from  oth-         |     |            nitwit•for          ers, set far          |     |                i only                    apart•           |     |     have my                             i am the     |     | strings...                                      marione-     i am but                                             tte who's a limp                                                        after pup-                                              your      pet•                                         heart•** .
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