All I am is a toy,
Broken porcelain doll
Attached to the puppeteers string,
The string snaps,
I’m the intervening variable of the puppeteer’s performance,
Falling away from the audience,
By another better porcelain doll.
Ever wonder what your teddy is plotting?
The cornerstones of your life are the thorns in mine,
I prick my fingers on them
Like sleeping beauty at a spindle
Slumber is not a refuge from the pending doom,
The nuptial bed frowns wryly under reality
Filling its substance into shattered dreams