All The Dolls All The Needles
Just put me down,
stuff me with fluff,
wear that crown.
About the town.
As a voodoo thing,
I feel the needles
and the poison
seeps all the city
I know I love.
Pin prick society,
getting it down,
till the underground
got to start surfacing.
On the inside.
Introspection
on all the outroverts
that they are patchwork.
All the dolls steady still
needles pierce into me.
Quests those
I have been on,
got to keep myself
down, so you go
up on that shelf.
Pin pricks that
I felt from what
is the same old
you, come back
with more needles
to push into.
Dolls, of flesh.
Dolls, of living death that dance
with your words controlled
by the voodoo masters.
The same old bastards
that burn those people
are supposed to treasure.
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| empatheticmelancholic | 
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