Don’t tell a soul that I’ve murdered my doll
I swear to you it was an accident.
She slumbered on the bed, perfectly still
Except for an errant curl that broke symmetry.
My fingers traced her porcelain face
And reached for that lock to put in place.
It turned my fingers gold.
I let it go and watched the gold flee
So I grabbed on and marvelled at my golden hand.
But it glowed so bright the rest was hidden
Realised then I couldn’t live with just golden fingers
So I sank both my hands into her head and
Yanked so hard that she woke up.
And I pulled and I plucked
As she continuously cried “Mama!”
And I pulled and I plucked
Till she no longer cried “Mama!”
All the gold upon her head
Now lay strewn upon the bed
Those glassy eyes signalled retreat
As yellow hands recoiled from cold cheeks.
Don’t tell a soul I’ve murdered my doll
That offensive curl caused an accident.
