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Growly Wolfus Oct 2019
Left on the side of the curb, I watch as glamoured figures march up the steps
I, myself, dressed in an attired elaborate gown to complement my necklace and stark red lips
and eyes
tired from crying
cracked

Leaving the dance, a tall man in a tailored grey suit and tie,
unaware or avoiding me, passes me by
The rain drizzles, waltzing on the pavement and my face
A shadow covers me as the rain stops
Applauding the rain, the thunder claps

Bending down and lifting me, you carry me to your fancy car
and lay me, exhausted, across the seat, covering me with that large coat of yours
Awaking in an unfamiliar room
but strangely unafraid knowing you had brought me here
entirely calm with the knowledge you are near

Walking in with your beautiful charm
I sob heavily as you hug me in your arms
I fall into your warm shirt, crying into your shoulder
You run your fingers through my hair
whispering candied words into my ear

Passions overtake me as I grab your head for a kiss
You roll with me under the covers, a divine bliss
To others, I'm just another pretty face
another porcelain doll to smash on the ground
or tossed away and never found

Boys and men like dolls too.
But I'm not a doll when I'm with you
not another pretty face in the crowd
I am yours, with all my heart, soul and body
My love for you shall never cease

Somehow, I fell in love with a single kiss, your gentle hands caressing my chest
I pull you closer to me, fully obsessed
enthralled by your intense gaze, lustful like others
I stare into them with wonder

Different than the normal man, you captured me with your first glance
that fateful night not long ago by the steps of the dance
this is what love is, inescapable, overwhelming
I need you in my life forever; if only time would stop for us
To stay in your comforting embrace, the only one I trust

I'll be a doll any other time, just not now at this moment
and never with you near my vision's extent
My cracks have healed, my eyes are no longer red
I'll just lie here in your bed
brimmed with joyous love
Isn't love captivating?
Jasmine dryer Sep 2019
Do I need you to survive?
yes!
Is that a lie?
no!
Put your love to the test
Can you survive longer than the rest?
Oh its such a mess!
But, hey!
maybe it'll be all
ok
maybe you really deserve to
stay

hey doll,
wanna play?

"thats all you had to say"
Ruhee Aug 2019
Hey cheeky Teddy Bear!
Did they call you fat?
No, You aren't baby,
You have a wonderful warmth,
The earth looks beautiful
Through your warmth that hugs
Souls with Love and feelings..

Little Doughnut you aren't fat,
You are curvy
& Chummy Chum.

Sweet little potato
Smile a loads
Yes! You are
A Chum chum Plumy Doll.

Fathima Ruhee
Von Jul 2019
In a world rife with liars,
I must paste a smile on my face
to protect my own self
day after day.
I'm just like a broken doll,
you see?

Ah... How strange.

I can't smile anymore
Ashley Kaye Jun 2019
a hand
a hello
an embrace
What flesh do you hold
Who does it belong
to

i feel as a doll
in its playhouse
Trudging between plastic
bright, wallpaper rooms
Daises and lavish paisley
peeling

Will I ever trust the very heart
on my sleeve
let alone place it
in your hands
Meaning is like words
It is claimed, they are said
Truth remains elusive
from reality
June 2019
Mythical May 2019
There it stands tall and small,
Skinny to the bones,
With pale glass skin,
Looking straight ahead..

Dark cold beady eyes,
With radiant red lips sealed the lies,
Oriented clothes tied tightly by the waist,
Hair in a black bun...

Holding a golden cup,
Where at night she whispers to it,
If listen closely you might hear her silent screams,
Just be aware of the beauty it holds..

Another chilling tale of the Doll,
That haunts my every movement,
Who watches me,
Whenever I tried to sleep...
Emma May 2019
Strings around porcelain skin
Bruises that are so thin
Skin never grows
Face never shows never feels
Twirl can she ever
For my art project, I took my first poem on this site and made a black out poetry of it.
Mark Parker Apr 2019
Sewn together to be torn apart,
bitten, beaten, ripped to pieces.
Put back together with used parts,
over time her quality decreases.
Drifting like petals in the gentle breeze,
the Doll goes where the wind blows.
She knows hell would have to freeze
in order to get a brand new set of clothes.
A ribbon wrapped to cover a tortured head,
wooden buttons and her bow colored red.
Notes of a blonde dolls life.
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