Poppet
Eyes burrow into the shallow edges
Of the people who might’ve been
I look through them and wish
Wish I could tell them.
What? I don’t know.
I don’t remember.
I lost my doll. My special, magic doll.
I can’t speak without my doll.
The words become messy in my head,
Like aliens, like something not my own.
A man in uniform changes his mind.
He would’ve liked to ask me,
What had gone wrong.
But suddenly, he doesn’t.
He understands there is no help to give,
No CPR, no glue that can bring my puppet back.
His stilts, broken, his eyes, made of glass.
I don’t know where I lost him,
I don’t remember what I broke,
But now, I tread solely on glass shards,
On him. On you. On the old police-man.
Nobody can help me.
So I sit in the dark, with my broken puppet,
I tried so hard to revive.
And the words catch in my throat,
And the syllables cloud in my mind,
Each letter a tomb. Each sound like a knife.
Oh, won’t you please bring my dolly back?
I’m scared, and it’s gone all dark now.
I sit back. My head glitches. My eyes start.
I will pass the night without my magic poppet,
And in the morning, I’ll die.
