The Living Broken (Poetry)

Dollhouse

I'm an actress,

Living in a dollhouse. 

Where dreams come true, 

Where friends enjoy my tea. 

Where we laugh about how, 

Our sad Molly's always so low. 

How she always has a frown,

On that pretty little mouth. 

Peter the bunny says,

That Molly was just like me. 

She always had that look, 

The one which haunts Jerry the bear. 

She never plays with us anymore,

She thinks we are a chore. 

Oh, our sweet Molly, 

Her life is a lie. 

She cuts her wrists, 

Just like a beast. 

Everyone adored her,

Everyone loved her. 

She was gone too soon they say, 

She would go to Heaven they would pray. 

Well, honey, this is where I come in,

See, I never liked Molly. 

I never adored her. 

She was always too nice, 

Always too lovely. 

I was always too mean, 

Always too cruel. 

We were from the same mother, 

From the same womb. 

I live in a dollhouse, 

Where everything is plastic. 

My face is fake, 

My dresses too small, 

But that's how it is, 

For I'm an actress.