Beautiful Broken Dolls

We are not. The best of them. People already know. Of course. Why wouldn’t they ? 

Thieves. Whores. Murderers. Rapists. 

Shudder when we walk past. Turn away, look at the sky, the ground. Anywhere but us

Dark. Lights flicked out. Sun bargained with the moon, to hide, run. 

Outcasts, and broken. 

Shattered, lost. Cracked and fractured. 

Broken dolls. 

Twisted arms and lost head. Tied in a pretzel. 

Time. It's lost. We are lost. They have lost. We all lost in the end

Brother is missing. Sister is dead. What's the matter, he asks. 

Don’t know. Why? Why care. Take me. Take my innocence. My body

My heart, my soul, my mind

Inhale. Exhale. 

Consumed. Exhumed. 

Taken from the grave. Took my body but left my soul. 

How dare he. Take me from my place. Disturbing my body. 

Bother my life. Bother my rest. 

He took Her as well. She isn't the same. 

Smiles are full of hurt. Eyes are fragments of hate, taken from the source

Blonde and dark. Beautiful and scary

Weep for us. Die for us. 

The beautiful broken dolls. 

Outcast. Torn. Lost. Abandoned

Forgotten. 

Why me? Why us? Why?

Corrupt and malfunctioned. 

Left on the streets to rot. The London eyes watched every move. 

Clock strikes 12. That's when life is truly alive. 

She dances at night, laughs with the moon. 

She bargained with the sun and gained a thousand diamonds. 

Life is alive. She heals us. 

Until she is taken as well. 

Nothing stays once it is gained. Everything is limited. 

Nothing is infinite. It ends. Dies in the flames of eternal Hell. 

That all Life is now. Hell. She is broken. Dead. Twisted in a fake plastic version of herself. 

She is now a broken Doll. 

Tortured and forlorn. Wrecked 

A beautiful broken doll. 

Faded and colorless. Life was stripped of life herself. 

Does that make sense? Do you understand where I am going with this? 

The cart rolls out, death lounging on top, his companion, Night, hugging his side. 

 Eyes matched mine, grinning with knowing. He knew. Knew I cheated. Knew I stole. 

Escaped his clutches, but He was ready to claim me again. Take me back. 

I was his. Would always be. 

But the other took me first. The King, The devil himself. 

Master and puppeteer. Ringmaster and commander. General and Fighter. 

He strokes my cheek as I shiver, whispering in my ear. 

Jump, fly, twirl, leap. Skip and patter and pitter along with the rain

Kill, rape, torture, steal, and rob like my father. 

I was born into evil. No other way, He said. Good was lost centuries ago. Buried with the ages. 

Sin ran in my veins and tainted my blood

Evil is my formula of life. 

I was beautiful once. Then I was broken. Was this said before?

I’m a beautiful broken doll. 

We all are. 

We are lost. 

Forgotten. 

Abandoned. 

Twisted. 

Corrupt

Evil.

Sinful. 

Shamed. 

Outcast. 

Beautiful.

Lovely. 

Perfect. 

Broken

Fractured

Shattered. 

A beautiful broken doll. 

Oh

You're lost, right? Looking for guidance?

I can’t help you. I’m stuck. 

I’m alive but dead. I’m known and forgotten. 

Don’t worry, though.  

It’ll happen to you. 

My oh my, he says, stroking a hellhound. 

He summoned me forward. I went, of course. Who am I to betray a command of a master? 

He points to the sky, at the London Tower. 

10 to 12, it reads out. The mechanical smile slowly gets wider. 

In 10, Life will form once more. Less than the last time. 

Full of regret, loss, and vengeance. 

The Devil turns to me, grinning monstrously. 

Oh my God, he is so hideously beautiful. 

Like the Fey in those tall tales. Beautiful, yet ugly. 

They have the skin and looks of an angel, but the intentions of demons. 

Looks are deceiving. Words are deceiving. 

I know. I learned. 

Don't trust any words that come out of His mouth. 

Go, He commands. And I go

I climb up the ladder of bones, and I emerge a Phoenix from the Ashes of my grave. 

I trace my headstone with a fresh finger of flesh. 

Angeline Flathers

1876-1896

A beautiful soul, taken far too soon

A red rose rested on top of the grave. The petals are drooping already. 

Soon it will be gone as well. 

Why can’t you stay, I ask. Please don’t go.

The petals droop more. 

I turn away in hurt and disgust. Hasn’t Death taken enough. 

The cart rolls out again, the body inside it getting ready to be torn apart. 

Stolen and sold to medical students to be dissected like frogs. 

No. Not again. 

I step onto the cobblestone drive. It's cold, like ice. 

The cart jars and skitters to a halt once it sees me. 

Man leans out, sizing me up. My curves and edges. 

He saw me as beautiful. He doesn't see my flaws or cracks. 

He doesn't see me. 

As a broken doll. 

Where am I headed, he asks, eyes skipping and glowing with anticipation. 

Disgusting and foul. Dirty street scum. 

I smile sweetly. 

He takes me to an old crematorium. He allows me to help with the bodies. 

A beautiful boy. About 21. Dead. Taken and lost. Bought like an object. 

What happened?

Not any of our business, her answers. He harvests, they pay. He delivers. He gains.

The boy stares up at me. Blue eyes are unblinking. 

He was once beautiful, I can tell. 

His lips harvested bright smiles and enticed the taste of others.

His golden hair was once a halo, now bent and crooked. Dirty and grim. 

His hands molded around the waists of others, twirling from one partner to another

Now he was just a corpse. Sold for the use of others. 

A beautiful broken doll. 

I touch the knife in my pocket. I watch the turned back of this predator, as he wraps the boy in a dirty cloth. 

I raised it in my fist. Curled like it was fit for me. In the flames of hell

Where this savage was going. 

Blood sprouted. Screams muffled. Begging. Mercy?

Ha!

Not a chance. 

He is not like the rest of us. 

He is dirty and disgusting. Rotten and horrid

We are pure and fractured. Perfect and cracked. 

Beautiful broken dolls.