This Doll I Never Liked
She left this world on a Sunday, and it closed itself to beauty.
For nothing would ever be the same; it is barren now.
Words have not been invented to describe our loss.
We listened to music, to try to go on living for another day.
It was months before I could look at her things.
I let myself in and felt I was intruding; for I was.
Her house was the same, except there was no her.
I felt spooked; it seemed like I was a voyeur, her daughter.
I left quickly, for I could not contain the avalanche of sadness.
The next time I came I prayed, thinking it might help.
When I opened my eyes I had a weird expectation.
An unexpected feeling I cannot describe, for I had never had it.
I looked around the room. There was a doll which I had despised.
She was staring at me. Hideous I thought, but she did not flinch.
I picked her up and held her to me. We sobbed together.
I was going to take her pink hair ribbon with me but took her instead.
She gives me comfort, this doll I never liked.
For my mother thought she was terrific,
And I knew that she knew more about my mother
Than I ever would. I hoped to learn her secrets.
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