A puppet, A word. A feeling. A puppet. What is it to you? A person to obey your every command? A person feeling what you want it to? A puppet on strings that you control with your arms and devious eyes and brutal words? A puppet. What is it? Do you control it as long as the strings hold in place? Do you make it feel like you want it to? Do you peek at her, when she doesn't feel aware? Do you ponder her and tell her to stand alone...? Do you ask her things that you command her to answer truthfully to? A puppet. A lonesome puppet. What do you do with it? Do you laugh at her when you make her smile a fake smile? Do you make her cry when you're feeling depressed? Do you watch her, see her, love her? A puppet. A dead little thing. Just a doll, with strings attached. A puppet. She's beautiful and perfect; flawless and inevitably awe-striking. She's great, but oh so gone from life, but you command her to be happy, you pull the strings high and tight, and pull the corners up and laugh. A puppet. What do you do with her? A puppet with strings. Strings that can't be seen. What do you do to her if it doesn't react to what you want? Strings unforeseeable. What do you tell people when she smiles when told not to? What do you tell yourself when she cries when you don't want her to? A puppet. She's beautiful. You control her. But what do you do when the strings break and her heart stops? What do you do with it then? Is she just as worthless as she felt before?
You're a monster.
Deceased Poet · Sat Mar 28, 2009 @ 01:09am · 0 Comments |