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Doll
tonight i pull at raw skin
to contort myself like paper.
i am the artist;
canvas, chaos, and all.
the clock runs
& I wait til life evaporates.
Putrefying brain,
I watch the world pass by-
window side, like calling.
Paperwhite skin, Paper wide cage,
I am reduced to mache doll,
to spoiled eyes
and a pretty pink dress, always
a pretty pink dress.
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What is a woman but the mold, the metaphor, and the beauty?