Dolls are hollow

yes its true

emerald eyes

or even azure blue

they’re hollow

like me and you

empty hollow

don’t know what to do


Crippled limbs with no strength

feeble fingers with no nails

our cold breath the only stench we knew been sweet

lost of soul in its frame

sucking mine without shame

are those dolls we hate be us?


I don’t want to be a doll

no perspective

always static

always loomed

and my presence is none of value

me, become the minute

me, become the one without virtue


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