I felt the warmth caress my cheek like
the light of heaven radiating down
on me. Looking up I saw my mother,
with eyes blue, and a dress smudged by her youth.
Laughter and love streaked down my face and it
could be said this moment was infinite
in all of its grandeur. But we knew of
this falsehood, for god left for the stars and
you were my angel, but the men took you
too. They marched in; their tin guns rattling
to a tune I didn't know. The storm grew
on until finally, I looked and saw
mother taken into its gaping maw.
My limp retreat, hastened by the need to
escape the reality laid before
me.
As the sad scurried escape continued,
I felt my most intimate seams begin
to tear. The contents of my creator spilling
onto the cold ground. Those tin toy soldiers
surrounded me, and I realized something.
“A ragdoll can't flee”
With an air of vengeance, I took their bait;
biting down on the cursed fruit bestowed
to me by our nonexistent savior.
With a smile I split my seam and screamed out
to all the fallen toys, and fallen joys.
“Hush now men, mother, and me this is life;
this is love, and can't you see what it doe-”
My thought grew dark as a cold tin soldier
finished the job, and I joined my mother
within the ash.
I felt the warmth caress my cheek like
the light of heaven radiating down
on me. Looking up I saw my mother,
with eyes blue, and a dress smudged by her youth.
Laughter and love streaked down my face and it
could be said this moment was infinite
in all of its grandeur. But we knew of
this falsehood, for god left for the stars and
you were my angel, but the men took you
too. They marched in; their tin guns rattling
to a tune I didn't know. The storm grew
on until finally, I looked and saw
mother taken into its gaping maw.
My limp retreat, hastened by the need to
escape the reality laid before
me.
As the sad scurried escape continued,
I felt my most intimate seams begin
to tear. The contents of my creator spilling
onto the cold ground. Those tin toy soldiers
surrounded me, and I realized something.
“A ragdoll can't flee”
With an air of vengeance, I took their bait;
biting down on the cursed fruit bestowed
to me by our nonexistent savior.
With a smile I split my seam and screamed out
to all the fallen toys, and fallen joys.
“Hush now men, mother, and me this is life;
this is love, and can't you see what it doe-”
My thought grew dark as a cold tin soldier
finished the job, and I joined my mother
within the ash.

Once upon a time
it was we not I.
Love spelt out in rhyme,
and then it did die.

You love him, not me
and that's okay you
ignore my heart's plea
I bid life adieu.

This benevolence
is penultimate
is my dependence
of the intimate

This poem is done
as you are with me
life has no more fun
now I'll leave you be.

That rag doll looked up and smiled,
freshly unwrapped
with button eyes shining;
mother looked down on her and said:
"The noise is nothing, rest your head and sleep now child."

As night fell  toy soldiers  stumbled in with glee,
they tossed the poor doll  to the side,
torn by her threads.
A doll can't flee.

The sun grew high,
her tattered dress snared,
and the poor doll bumped her  head.
She cried and whaled to the stars, but none of them cared.

knotted, and worn,
her yarn hair grew wild
The doll sought nothing more than bread,
but spoiled fruit was all the tin men held.

Used up, the ragdoll fell into the fire.
her buttons dust, and mother dead
lost in a sea of the liars.

So maybe I do care
about the porcelain
stains in your stupid hair.

The father told the son
and the son his young child
and the river flowed on.

Sinners stole the saint's soul,
and you continued down
your abusive love's hole.

So she says that I am
enchanting.
Maybe I'm just a fool
surrounding
you, wasting precious air.
This is called
Bipolarity dear.

A little bit of greed had crossed my mind,
when I saw brother, pale with that lush fruit.
Like a ghost he sat, yet my envy grew.

I rushed down the hall to my dear mother
and in a single breath I told my tale,
Oh dear brother, why did I heed her word?

Your head rolled, and beside it went my mind.
Mom's wolfish grin claimed you for supper,
but you deserved more than Midas could give.

I took your remains, and wrapped them in silk.
You rested by the woman with no name.
As a bird sang on that juniper tree.

That night we ate my brother's memory,
father with sorrow on his furrowed brow,
and mother whose mask was merely a mirror.

That little songbird came down from heaven,
and mother's mask started gaining some cracks,
as the bird sang on that juniper tree.

With a final song, my mother was gone,
and on her gravestone, my dear brother stood.
it was a miracle, our love was warm.
Our hearts embraced by that juniper tree.

You leave each weekend to go to heaven,
Carelessly disregarding our own hell.
Hysterically I wait for your descent
I pick you up, tarnished, and wish you well.

The other children also do observe
That irony in your notes of remorse.
Pretending we aren't unimportant.
When we are but your stable's weary horse.

Return now, you immaculate liar.
We don't need you, angels shall warm our fire.