endlessly she looks on
lashes never flinching
no lids weighed by metal
to blink as you rock her
imaginary tears to fall

a little box freshly made
smells of melted plastic
made by wrinkled hands
with eyes shut tight
droplets soiling the exterior

the night her wisp of a candle
dimmed and turned to smoke
i held her in my arms
knowing she couldn't hear me
yet still sang that lullaby
the one that played each time
you pulled the string attached
to her back

and when i peaked down at
the window of her entrapment
my weepy eyes reflected on
her cracked porcelain skin
i imagined her mint condition
just like the day
i brought her home

I put these here
Little shards of who I be
One day
There won’t be
A part of me
You did not see