This Is Not a Doll

“Why?” … You were asked. You promised. Go get her. Her bare bones, broken, piled in the corner, stripped of all cloth, humanity, humility Mock the triviality of this earth. She transcends us all. The shallow hollows where eyes once stared hold the deepest secrets. The scalp, bald from years of brushing while ideas of beauty formulated. The hands, rubbed down to nubs from grip during fear. She is comfort. Security. A Guardian Angel. This is not a doll. This is your daughter’s child, her sister, her friend. Her youth. She was there when you weren’t. Get her before the ghosts take over. Before the house crumbles. Before you move away. Go get her. You were asked. You promised.