The Secret Life of Dolls

January 15th, 2019

Let’s go back
To a story that never started
Where a porcelain toy
Wasn’t left broken hearted
Let’s go back
To memories that don’t exist
Because the bruises never formed
At the hands of angry fists
Let’s go back
To when you didn’t drink the bottle
It fell empty on its own
And you’re still a perfect role model
Let’s go back
To when you didn’t let me down
You must have told me you were moving
Before you left town
Let’s go back
To when our family was defined
And I will delete what never happened
From the archives of my mind

“You”

February 19th, 2007

I close my eyes and I imagine “you.” “You” and me. What do I mean by “you” and me – I do not know. I don’t know who “you” is. I’ve lost it, the feelings I used to know so well. All gone. All washed down the drain. Missing. I fade away from my heart. It can’t break if it’s not being used. So don’t use me. “You.” The unknown. So distant. But I want “you.” I want to know “you.” I want to love “you.” “You.” My secret. I don’t know “you.” But forever “you” is all that is on my mind. Perfection trapped in imagination. Love that is stopped at a limit. Someday I will meet “you.” Someday I will know “you.” Someday I will love “you.” Someday “you” will hurt me. Someday “you” will break my heart. But for now, “you” is no one. “You” is just my imagination. “You” is nothing more than pixels formed on the computer screen typed from my fingertips. “You.” Trapped in my brain. “You” is no one. Maybe I am crazy, but I need “you”. I need to meet “you,” I need to know “you,” I need to love “you.” For once I have met “you,” I will truly understand. I will finally end my wondering. “You” will complete me. “You.” Such strange letters. Why – oh – you. “You.” My mind has created “you.” Someday “you” will be more than imagination. I still want to know who “you” will be. Maybe “you” will read this. Until then, “you” is no one. “You.” No one. Nothing. “You,” My love. No one. “You.”

2007 (3)