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Poetic T Nov 2014
Sitting in line, my dolls all still
Figurines sitting dressed up features
Frozen in that moment
Placid
Stagnant
Soundless
As all lips sealed with a sewn kiss,
"Never do they speak"
"Silence is there skill"  
Death seeps from staring eyes,
"They are the perfection I killed for",
Never would I wish for such perfection
But it only lasts so long as all flowers
Wilt
My dolls I hunt for, not anyone will do
They have to be a
Height,
Weight,
Beauty
Instilled, for me to appreciate them,
But those that fall, damaged in some way
Not as pristine,
"To the dumpster they must go"
I am called the "Doll Maker"
Perfection of eternal beauty Is my goal,
Features must be symmetrical
Not any face will do,
I will search for those of
Beauty
Exquisiteness
Symmetry
Is my model of perfection, those
Unsightly
Repugnant
Proportions
Not to my qualities, have no fear
You are beneath my view
Only the beautiful I seek,
"I Love My Silent Dolls"
Dressed sitting quietly still,
I am the
"Doll Maker"
For beauty & perfection I am willing to ******
We **** for beauty, but some go the extra mile
Jacob Traver Dec 2013
Complex as the universe this universal ache
My thoughts, my life does it overtake.
How deep the pain caused in troubled outside mind
How lost… the love I cannot find.

What longing and desire I have for love
Yet anger - hatred like a falling dove
Passion for both good and evil
Does no good, sees no evil.

The sun does rise therefore light can flee
From its dark captivity that repeatedly traps me
In this heavy heart that tortures my soul
And never is content, never full.

Why must I feel empty when I understand
The trap of the heart hiding beneath the sand,
The sand of lies, the sand of promises,
The sand of betrayal through wrenching kisses…

I walk alone…

No one lover can ever comprehend
The love I found, lost, and could not defend.
I drown off the shore of the gleaming sand
Catching glimpses… but not feeling the warmth in my hand.

Does no good, sees no evil.
- Love - a complete upheaval
I walk alone, by choice, my own
Love is a tapestry; sewn, torn, sewn…

I walk alone…
Sewn, torn, sewn...

— The End —