I sewed the strings up.
Tied them around the wrists and ankles.
I wiggled them around and you followed.
Coming back to it all, I remember clearly
the strings were bound to snap.

I walked you through your life with 
my hands nestling you on your hips.
You slipped a few times
on asphalt and ice alike.
You always were my mannquein, my baby marionette.

And then came the day, when the strings snapped
and you were left in a pile limp and lifeless.
your eyes turned back to glass
and my throat became scratchy.

I felt so lonely then.
I felt so alone that nothing could wash the shame
of me putting my hands all over you.
It came to create ticks of the crying clocks
as the your glass eyes slowly scratched. 
Oh man, I have come to be ashamed.
and I left you there for the woodpeckers and termits
to fest on the innards of your hollow hollow soul.

You always were my little mannequin.
My sweet little marionette
dressed in black with the most shiniest glass
that reflected every strip of sunlight
blinding me for I knew it wouldn't last forever.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741