Doll
© 1995 Devon Koren

I don't want to be your mannequin
I don't want to be your whore
They sell those types in pawn shops and dollar stores
I hear they're not too hard to find
Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six
Perfect fit for the role of a doll
They tug at my strings until my bones splinter
They tuck me under until I suffocate
I forced my body to fit the mold of a beauty queen
With time and sweat, blood and tears and fasting
I always wanted to be the pretty one
To wear a small tiara on an incandescent stage
I can't believe I've spent all this time
Trying on different shades of lipstick
To cover my putrid mask
Inside I'm only a child
Another metamorphosis
Though my wings were severed
Long ago
This innocence is mine
It is this plastic china doll you love
A cheap imitation of what I might have been
Frozen in detrimental icicles of the past
Tomorrow I'll be that awkward girl
Who bites her uneven unpolished nails
Tomorrow I'll be an ugly girl
The who I really am
This glamour is monotonous and bitter
And I want to be a child again
I don't want to be your doll anymore