Annabelle's Dungeon of Depravity
Paper Dolls

 
Another poem of mine.

See my little paper-dolls
Bashing and ripping at my skull
Until they pop
Out they pop!  A snow flurry
All happy and whirling in white paper leggings
Joined at the wrists so nobody can part them!

And they dance!
See them dance, dancing dancing dancing!

Pen put to paper, I write and I write.
Faster and faster I must
   write
   write
   write
   write!

For my dolls made of dreams
They are
   my true babies,
   my abortions
   my halfbirths
Just watch them they skip and they run!
Hair thrown back, paper streamers
Inkspot blood runs from their dry white chins.

See the sparks fly
From their merry dancing prancing feet
White on white so crinkly white white!
Sparks go flying, orange and scary
Burning up their tender feet
Lighting up their tender white paper doll feet.

But do they stop? Oh!  Not my dolls!
Faster they dance because to stop is to die!
Oh do not die don't
   Die!
   Die!
   Die!

Dance! Yes! dance! as the flames pursue you
Consume you
And they smile, and they
   grin
   grin
   grin
those dolls, and they scream
With white happy joy,
Joined at the wrists,
Smoking and spinning and whirling and twirling
Faster and faster they spin
They must spin!
Oh we must go quick!  Quickly quickly now!
Smoke rises white from their curly white hair
From their streaming white paper doll curly white hair
From the red flickering flames that consume them at last
A whirling hot ring of redness and whiteness
Till there's nothing but
   Ashes!
   Ashes!
   Ash!
   Ash!

But the ashes are joyous!
Yes, they too are joyous!
And the smoke swirls in circles
And it picks up the ashes
And they all float so free
Through the air,
They float oh so free,
Rising and dancing and twisting they float and they . . .

ennui 06/17/99

(copyright 1999 ennui)