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Marionette

(An Unrhymed Poem)

By Jasmine TaylorPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Salutations, must I introduce myself?

Oh, my sincerest apologies to you, I remain anonymous.

Well, I will begin this way: I am a doll, a marionette with a grotesque appearance. For I hope you do not mind the sudden interference.

I am unable to verbally communicate, for it will cause excruciating pain.

So, I am telepathic.

My mouth is stitched shut, with rich crimson blood slowly yet harmoniously trickling down my navy blue lips.

I have no true voice. Utterly fantastic!

You caught my sarcasm, no?

My body is lifeless with strings attached.

I remain immobile unless I am under someone's authority.

Bruises constantly covered my appearingly wooden body, although it reads “fragile” on my bare back; cracks scarring my body with ghastly intriguing designs. I... am an eyesore.

I am not handled with care, I am used and abused. Used when “needed” and broken repeatedly when playtime is over. The cycle repeats itself. Endlessly. Eternally.

Then you ask me “Why must you remain mute?” Sounds like you have not viewed me properly.

I am not allowed to speak.

I must remain immobile and antisocial.

I must maintain this appearance until I am nothing but polychromatic ashes. And that... is for you to figure out how.

Oh how I wish to not be bound in such an unspeakably sadistic way. But this is how I must live... until the very last second I die.

I am silence. I am lifeless.

I own a black, elastic heart... that never once beats.

I am not of my own authority.

I am Marionette.

surreal poetry
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