-puppet-

Daily Poetry #29, February 26, 2017 Word: Puppet Please, know that this isn't the only me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone before, I wish you could understand. The one controlling this me, they never cry, never show sympathy. Please, I'm not a bad child, I wish you knew, but I've already hurt you so much. Marionette lifts up my joints without remorse for the mask it wears, or me. I cry out, hoping that one day, someone would come along and help me, but it's fruitless. Lowering my head and cowering like the scared child I am, I simply cry. I ask the puppeteer, “What kind of tale will I have to tell?” As the author of the story, I cry out, for there is nothing for this me to tell. On the stage, the puppeteer cries as well, for there is no content in this tale. Marionette smiles at me as the mask on my face crumbles away; it's the start of a clumsy story. “Let's both continue this tale,” Those are the words I've been waiting to hear for so long. I smile, for I don't need this mask.