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Marionette: The Hollows II

Needles are nothing.  Pierce my heart with your blade and I might wake up to watch.  I feel it.  There’s just no pain.  Not yet.  You’re trying to sew strings and make me your marionette?  Proving to be more difficult than you expected...the string turns pieces of me to dust; before, there was at least the outline of a hollow heart.  You are making only a hollow vessel instead.  Shadows will take my place, standing where you tried to tie me into pieces for you.  


Is it ownership you want?  Or just a new way to stay entertained, when needed.  It won’t dance for you; it certainly won’t sing.  Just what is it that you want it to do?  Empty veins won’t drown the noise when nothing spills from inside.  Detonating them open won’t allow you to swallow your screams in my blood.  I. am. empty.


One eye opened for you, that is all.  Mostly from suspicion and expectant malice.  That you will find inside.  It grew best when they built my home in suicide forest.  I was seven, and my cries under the stars wet their seeds of discarded deviance.  Defiance.  Demarcation.  Delay.  Decay. De-ath.  The stages of my heart’s demise were not for your play, this is no theater can you not see that yet man!  But it is here for defilement.  Yours?  Dare dismay our dary days and darken them more among my dire drip...drip...drip...for you.  There is your blood, but that will be the last for you.  


Wait.  WAIT!  Do you live here too?


My eye watches.  You haven’t yet hurt me with your needle.  But I see you reach for a dagger among friends.  What are you doing!? What are you doing with that rope, NO!  Gallows OR bloodletting but not both.  Cruelty doesn’t have to be my end when it was my beginning and middle.  The gallows will shut me down entirely.   You cannot make me a doll!! Animation is gone; the gallows have no purpose!  No one will pay to watch you strum my hollow in the dark sky among these trees! You’re MAD!  Absolutely ma...oh.  Oh, you precious darling beast.  You unarmed, unhinged, unwary simple beast.  You fumble, I laugh.  There are not deviants among us, just within.  And they’re growing.  You’re breeding for us.  Making our family.  And inside my useless heart you have carved out a stowaway home. You did not want a doll at all, but a hiding place where no one roams.  In the hollows you all shall go. 





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