Your Porcelain Doll

I lie awake at night
clutching the cloth on my skin.
It burns without your presence on my arms,
embracing the broken pieces you left with me.
Sinking into the dissatisfaction,
knowing nothing can replicate what was once yours.
Your absence can’t be categorized as an emotion–
it is the promise of warmth from the sun
only to have me reenact the Fall of Icarus.

It is the soothing sounds of crickets–
only to realize you’ve left me stranded.
Sly whispers attend with no invitation,
reminding me of the days we were inseparable.
A sacred nightly ritual–
reset the mind,
control the mind,
suppress the mind.
For a picture of porcelain becoming stained

Every minute we part, I become stronger.
Only to fall into your arms on that cold floor
a sea of voices suddenly silenced–
for only yours to speak.
Forbidden truths seep through the cracks
as I learn to stop saying goodbye,
to stop the manipulation inside my mind.
After years of being a blind puppet
my eyes open to the only truth both of us stand behind–
goodbye is only a matter of till I see you again.