Dolls

It chafes close to the skin. In words that don't listen. I'm not young anymore. I know this so well. There they go thinking they're better. Because we let them. We're women. So submissive. So fragile. So needful of the sperm they provide.

Come fill me with another life.

Come teach me how to multiply. Because there is not enough of me. Because I'm full of holes and only you can rape the stairs in a way that will prove I still possess what they call my life.

Shoot the bullet. Kill me with life.

Plug the hole.

I wish I could be that weak. Make them love me.

So much the girl, never the life.

So the hour. But not the time.


I couldn't love them anyway. How they look at me. As if I'm still alive.

How they stare. Like there's a skirt around. Like they can file that hole. When it's mine.

It's always been mine to own.

No loaded shotguns. No triggers under their thumbs. My bullets. My dolls with their empty dresses. My dolls. With their plastic skin.

Don't make me whole. Just remind me. Remind me how near I've come..