Marionette (09/05/2013)

I feel like a porcelain doll

pretty on the outside

and hollow on the inside

my glass eyes look, but do not see

my ears hear, but do not listen

my lips speak- but rarely what I feel

 

I'm on autopilot

perhaps there is a puppeteer somewhere

pulling my strings

But my connections are coming loose

and when they finally break I'll fall apart

A pretty, crumbled heap on the ground

 

all painted lips, and silent, hollow ideas

 

 

 

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741