Plastic By, Melissa R. Mendelson
Plastic
A cold wind blows
as I stroll along
the empty path
through the dollhouse
and through the plastic
buildings that surround it.
The world is behind me,
and the blank faces
of the porcelain dolls
gives me no comfort
for they can't see
the woman inside me.
If I could just melt away
this prison
that I have been trapped in
for too long
and jump
back into the water,
I could swim again
in the river of life
and feel
maybe the love
of one
I wish for.
In the meantime,
my time is spent
here in the dollhouse
and the plastic buildings,
listening to the voices
of those empty dolls
living a life
that I dream.
Such great writing Melissa :)
ReplyDelete