The Neck Is Broken

The Doll Collection The necklace scattered: all into little pieces Another quiet doll for my collection I twisted her throat until her eyes shown dead Into the night they stare so very red I stand her up, on a small doll chair Crafted with loving hands that freed her from breathing air They are all in a row, so pretty they are, staring at my wife She is paralyzed you see, her neck would not even tear for me I collect dolls, for my loves doll collection She doesn’t move, only stares in murky recollections Small pieces of deep anguish leak from her eyes She recoils at the new dolls I give her as a surprise They sit in chairs; the doll house is so pretty With amber and gold, I wrap a necklace around each Such pretty dolls, that me and my love keep Each doll face is my path towards guilty redemption No one knows the secrets we have hidden so deep No one knows the dolls that we collect and keep No one knows I have saved them all, they shall never weep No one knows my wife, paralyzed; so shall never speak That fateful night she refused to die Her necklace so beautiful wrapped in blood so dry In our doll house, my shrine devoted to her Her tears rain down her face mercilessly clear Notes: I had just purchased a book called “The Doll Collection” a compilation of short stories edited by Ellen Datlow. For one purpose, I was sure it would inspire me some poetry, of course on the dark side. Then I read a poem by Andrea Dietrich called “The Necklace Broke” From that I had my idea and off I went. I borrowed a few words from Andrea with her permission, and did so on purpose to pay tribute to another great poet here on Soup! Even a poem is so completely different, I think its wonderful that reading other poets provides such great inspiration. I would also ask that people read her poem, and here I provide the link! http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_necklace_broke_831425