Friday, February 27, 2015

Broken Dolls

Pull me in.
All of me. 
Let's tear away at
these bandages
Let them fall.
I've been healing too long,
and if you couldn't tell
there are few that can mend me.

I've been stitched together like a ragdoll.
These tattered edges were covered in lace.
I'll be cute again.
Someone can pick me up and squeeze me.
Drag me behind them for their comfort,
and toss me aside when the damage
shows on my face.

The gauze and linen pale my complexion,
so the appearance of joy will be painted on again.
Thread the needles, tighten the ribbons,
place me on the shelf,
and tell the admirers
I am just too fragile to handle.
Just look at her from afar.

Bandage the dolls who were broken by circumstance.
I'll put on a pretty dress and hope someone I love
will pick me up again.
Tear away the bandages.
Squeeze me tight
and don't let go.
To reconstruct a woman
that has been 
torn apart so many times
is an effort.
It's just a numb body waiting for a heartbeat.
So pull me in. 
All of me.
There are so very few that can mend me.
Let me know there will be a life again.


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