"dollface" poems
hey dollface.
I don't think you know
how truly
ugly
you really are
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 10:48 AM UTC
There was nothing plastic
About the way your smile showed
Or about the way your arms felt
But a voice in the back of my head told me so
And last weekend
I melted a carpet I thought was wool
You could have fooled me
Except now there is a hard, shiny, iron-shaped mark
Plastered into the carpet's soft mat
To be honest, I was a little disgusted
When I pulled the iron away and found
Strings of green and red clinging to it like bubblegum
And to be honest, I felt a little disgusted with myself
Not to mention you
When I left a handprint in your soft back
And strings of skin still sticking to my palm
Prove you, my little plastic boy, are just a doll
By all the tests that matter
A human illusion too easily destroyed
By an excess of warmth
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 3:17 PM UTC
"Who is leaving who now?"
All my insecurities bubble to the surface, that one phrase plunging me deeper into Hell.
"I'm sick of people leaving me."
So am I, dollface, but what am I supposed to do about that?
I've taken a liking to self-preservation, but you only lead me to self-devastation.
"Now I have two more faces today I need to forget about."
I'm sorry, but I have my own demons to fight, my own wars needing waged.
I have my own faces needing purged from my eyelids, from my heart.
"Text me when I'm good enough."
Good enough? You're not good enough? I'm the one that's not good enough.
I'm not good enough to fix you.
I'm not strong enough.
I'm not whole enough.
"I'm not suicidal..."
If you're not suicidal, then I wouldn't be so concerned.
If you're not suicidal, then you wouldn't be wanting to throw your life away with this... sickness.
This isn't you, despite your confident "it is" claim.
Why must you do this?
"I don't want to think about it."
You're destroying yourself.
I can't understand this.
I can't take your constant decimation every night;
It's destroying me too, dear.
Your nonstop emotional blackmail only beats me further into submission.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 4:53 PM UTC
he likes to call me dollface
and i let him unravel my threads,
because i'm not quite porcelain like he seems
to think - more so a rag doll, yarn for
hair, buttons for eyes, soft and
easy.
we started as a series of stolen things:
glances, secrets, moments in a walk-in freezer,
and i keep wondering how that all led us
here, stealing time as
he lights a bowl and i
dance circles in his living room
all the while he is watching
like he is in a museum, and i am
art behind a glass to
stare at, never
touch
he reaches out and falls short,
calls me over but never follows through,
pulls my threads and
sews me up again
each time
he calls me
dollface
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 3:44 PM UTC
distance makes us
***** calls and texts of shame
1:43 AM attempts at conversing
the simple hellos ignored
and the ‘I love you’s forever out
of sync.
you are
bully and ringmaster
and my master to your masochism,
strangling the dollface you’ve longed
too long
to want.
we,
armistice.
we, never.
he and me, ****** to each other
I listen and wither with every I miss you
slave,
servant,
animal.
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
Lightly, darling, live lightly, Lightly dollface, live brightly and let the darkest, deepest, heaviest parts of your soul drip down your rib cage over your bones. Feeling it all, just let it fall to your toes, down in the ground and all around.
An effortless flow let the black of your mind seep into the meaning of time
spread your roots and just breathe.
Look about you. You will shed darkness so it reveals the light that is you The you that is always yearning to greet the heavenly sun.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 2:55 PM UTC
there's weeds winding up her wrists
and the vines of ivy have grown high,
high up her thighs
where black and cream mingle
not sweet enough for envyline
there's a ghost in her bed
and she made friends
with the spirit of her moon sister
pay no mind to her
bitter envyline is just
what a little to take
a little too much
simply just stardust
in her galaxy of eyes
between her thighs
she's been tarnished
daddy's baby, dollface, honey
getting around with no money
collecting hearts like butterflies
tear off the wings
save them in a jar
sow them together again
her cherry pies
like those cosmic eyes
draw you in with a little tornado
a little spark of volcano
before she melts beneath you
daddy can taste it on her tongue
she's been seeing someone
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
This cold seeps into my bones.
These war-worn bones...
these putrid bones.
Hold me up,
the puppet I am,
so willing and eager to take your hand.
I’ll kiss you with my painted lips.
I’ll press to you my plastic hips.
My button eyes will steal your fire and soon
I’ll be what you desire.
I’ll let you feel my woven hair and soon
you’ll need me more than air.
Don’t
play with me like
I’m your toy,
then
simply leave me
lying there.
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 12:05 AM UTC
Take me apart
You called me your doll
I'm broken and missing some pieces.
Break me in half
It's nothing at all
I'm happier when I'm needless
Cut up my heart
And together we fall
Will you still call me baby?
"Dollface" may be my epitaph
But I'm not pretty, don't call
I need you, don't say it's a "maybe".
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
These painted faces
Haven’t seen many places
A dusty shelf they call their home
A fake self is all they have known
They dress up and make up and
In the morning they wake up
All alone on their shelves
All by their lonesome selves
These painted faces
Will tell you what “good” taste is
Their smiles are painted on
Their happiness is long gone
But they know how to get what they want
They know how, where and what to flaunt
These painted faces
Are all dressed up in laces
They play with their food
Always in the mood
To play with their toys
And play with their boys
These painted faces
Have many shallow graces
Have one shape and one size
Have malice in their eyes
And have hearts full of lies,
But painted faces are lonely
Because in the end they only
Ever come home
To shallow, hollow selves
And shallow, hollow lies
To dusty, empty shelves
And dusty, empty lives
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
You always loved me
on your own terms,
rolling them dice,
slamming down those cards
& picking up sticks.
Rock on Sweetness.
You go Honey Pie.
And while you at it,
playing those silly little games,
do a couple of magic tricks for me.
Make one a vanishing act.
'Cause when you reappear,
I promise,
you'll think about me,
you'll wish I was there.
But you can kiss my *** goodbye,
I promise,
you won't find me
in a ******* Jack box,
not this time.
Sorry Dollface,
you'll have to find
another gamer
to make promises.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
I am invincible to society
I am the one who wears a dollface
Smile when it seems right
I have talents no one see's
But I do have someone who loves me
Falling down is easy, getting up is hard
I'm afraid to shoe them who I am.
I don't belong, I can see it in there faces
No need to hide, you can't break me
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 2:12 AM UTC
you enamoured the skin in which she was crawling and burned your fingerprints into her stomach
dandy darling dollface lover
please bloom tonight
she's been watering your affection
for way too long
is she number six or twelve to not
wake you up from your loveless haze
do you only feel attraction in contemporary moments
i ask because she'll have to wear the scars of your fingerprints until her skin is falling off
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
Dont call me Dollface
My skin is faded, too
But I remember everything
And I remember you
'Ooh la la' might set the tone
But we're faded far from view
Another time you'll break my heart
But I'm due for something new.
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 2:42 AM UTC
he likes to call me dollface
and i let him unravel my threads,
because i'm not quite porcelain like he seems
to think - more so a rag doll, yarn for
hair, buttons for eyes, soft and
easy.
we started as a series of stolen things:
glances, secrets, moments in a walk-in freezer,
and i keep wondering how that all led us
here, stealing time as
he lights a bowl and i
dance circles in his living room
all the while he is watching
like he is in a museum, and i am
art behind a glass to
stare at, never
touch
he reaches out and falls short,
calls me over but never follows through,
pulls my threads and
sews me up again
each time
he calls me
dollface
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC