where is my body?
unraveling at the seams,
i am the strange one.
« c i r q u e x d e x g a i a»
THE PAINTED DOLL
Find them amusing, little children with glee.
The white paper skin that shines so brightly.
Cruelly with inky stained markers and pens,
Mar their white skin and paint their eye lens.
At the end of time when the sun starts to wane,
The silent poor doll is put under strain.
Stained skin ripped off and torn with a mess,
Treated like yesterday's horrid canvas.
Left out in the moonlight to gather her rays,
The doll grows pale skin for the rest of their days.
Stuck in a cycle filled with cruelty colored black,
The silent doll sits with their light blue tears back.
- Paranoid Doll