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Broken Doll
Amazing how the human mind can turn itself against us, feeding us lies and false perceptions.
How does it protect when all it does is cover the swirling mass that writhe underneath it, like shoving the old toys under the bed before the Mother comes in to sweep them all out?
The feelings of being trapped and humiliated by my alter subconscious threatens to tear my rationality in two, to force me to give in to it's threatening growls of discontentment, it wills for the blood of my friends and enemies that I never see.
It's sickening to feel the need to hurt someone just to feel their pain and delight in their anguish, to strip away the soft cover and tear into the soft underbelly that screams in a horrible crescendo.
"Feel my pain" Is what I wish to yell, yet I never would; my soft already broken shell still trying to hold onto the kindness that it was given in this terribly vile world.
To see yourself crumble away at the mercy of your mind and others that afflicted you with such a curse is almost unbearable to think about, yet I must, to keep the feelings in check and the stinging rage at bay.
"Don't hurt others like you are hurting now" Is what I hear from my heart, that poorly misunderstood organ that has taken many a debilitating blow, but my head shrieks in defiance, refusing to give in to it's shallow pleas.
What a broken wreck I am; from a newly bought pair of jeans to being worn and ripped so many times the seams have begun to come undone. Just finish it already, the fabric has worn thin, watch it be cut by the scissors of time and thrown into the collapsible trash bin.
I'll watch with breaking eyes as I am thrown in with the other items that have been used and cast aside. I wish I was the Velveteen Rabbit, loved and worn to almost death, then left to decay in the fields only to be granted a miracle from being loved just so.
I've given all the love I possibly could until the word had become nothing but a painful memory, disappearing into the body like a hidden cancer.
Strike my heart, knock me down dead. Watch as I never get up again and see the red pour out of my empty chest cavity.
Save yourselves from the Broken Doll.
How does it protect when all it does is cover the swirling mass that writhe underneath it, like shoving the old toys under the bed before the Mother comes in to sweep them all out?
The feelings of being trapped and humiliated by my alter subconscious threatens to tear my rationality in two, to force me to give in to it's threatening growls of discontentment, it wills for the blood of my friends and enemies that I never see.
It's sickening to feel the need to hurt someone just to feel their pain and delight in their anguish, to strip away the soft cover and tear into the soft underbelly that screams in a horrible crescendo.
"Feel my pain" Is what I wish to yell, yet I never would; my soft already broken shell still trying to hold onto the kindness that it was given in this terribly vile world.
To see yourself crumble away at the mercy of your mind and others that afflicted you with such a curse is almost unbearable to think about, yet I must, to keep the feelings in check and the stinging rage at bay.
"Don't hurt others like you are hurting now" Is what I hear from my heart, that poorly misunderstood organ that has taken many a debilitating blow, but my head shrieks in defiance, refusing to give in to it's shallow pleas.
What a broken wreck I am; from a newly bought pair of jeans to being worn and ripped so many times the seams have begun to come undone. Just finish it already, the fabric has worn thin, watch it be cut by the scissors of time and thrown into the collapsible trash bin.
I'll watch with breaking eyes as I am thrown in with the other items that have been used and cast aside. I wish I was the Velveteen Rabbit, loved and worn to almost death, then left to decay in the fields only to be granted a miracle from being loved just so.
I've given all the love I possibly could until the word had become nothing but a painful memory, disappearing into the body like a hidden cancer.
Strike my heart, knock me down dead. Watch as I never get up again and see the red pour out of my empty chest cavity.
Save yourselves from the Broken Doll.
Published 8th Sep 2011
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