little siren girl, held up by fishhooks
and lines - you'll only be free when
they cut you loose.
still, they tell you: you will not fall
victim to swelling tides, you
will float. (you are a dead weight.)
you are something incomplete
like the forgotten house on the
end of the row, eating itself,
dimming day by day:
paint chips and chapped lips
have nothing left to say.
there are monsters nursing
deep beneath your flesh, with
threadbare spines and trembling
hands, they are afraid of their own
shadows. (you are only weak when
your eyes are open)
a new year waits upon your doorstep,
promising to take all that was ever [you]
the paper doll can finally sleep,
to see another day.