Tuesday, September 19, 2006

The Proper Doll

After I said what I wanted
I froze.
The words,
once out of my lips,
hung
like icicles
off the roof.
How dare I ask for what I want?
How dare I make a sound?
When I orgasm,
when I cry,
when I hit my hand with a hammer
and break skin.
I should lie still
and be good,
and take it all in.
Yes, daddy,
take all of it in.
Isn’t that what you taught me?
To never say a word.
To never make a sound.
To be the proper doll
lonely and neat,
waiting in closets
for you
to come.

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