You’re a doll, he says, all porcelain skin and rosy cheeks. Like you’ve never seen the sun, my doll. I smile, laugh and hug him. He holds me close, brushed his hands through my hair. You’re a doll, all gentle limbs and dainty features. Fragile like a glass sculpture, my doll, and he believes this. He holds me gently, delicately, pulls me close like I might shatter to pieces without him to support me, and I might, might fall to my knees glass shattering, porcelain splintering away on the floor, exposing all my broken joints and twisted strings. Everything that holds me together.
         And perhaps then the broken pieces will be visible, the strain on my knotted strings not so tight. Though perhaps I would not need his hold to support me had my mother given me the strength to do so myself, if she could have done it herself. My voice not so small if I’d had someone to share it with.
         You’re a doll, ashen skin on ruby lips and delicate lashes to curtain your eyes, my doll. He brushed his fingers against my face, carefully; as if I am some easily frightened deer he must approach with care. Lest I be frightened away. And he holds me, hands wrapped possessively around my waist encircling me like the iron bars of an exquisitely tragic birdcage.  Suffocating, my friends tell me, Dependent, they nod, Unhealthy, they chant. My protests go unheard, my voice too small to be found among the endless waves of their chatter. They drown in their own silence.
          I seek him out, crawling into his arms easily, closing the cage door behind me of my own accord. He smiles, tightens the bars around my waist and pulls my shoulders in.  And I feel safe, secure. You’re a doll, helpless and dependent. I know, I am a doll, a bird in a cage that’s swallowed its own key for fear of being released. Freedom is not for the delicate and fragile, for those made of glass and twisted strings. But it is a price I’d gladly pay to live perpetual safety, to always belong to someone, to never be alone.
         You’re a doll, desperate to be loved, held, owned. You’re a doll, my doll.
         Your doll.