PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A child stands alone. She hides in a hole. Clothes tattered and darkened as if out of poverty. The walls are all stitched and torn that surround her, another lost soul  trapped in a box, trapped in here heart. Broken mirrors hanging from the walls but with a reflection but not of you. Not of you..just reflections of another time..the memory's they we all hold dear, the memory's we tried to forget. Now in a puddle of your own bloody tears your curled up in a ball, shaking, and rocking back a forth. The one and only light hangs from the center of the room; Swaying in the dark. Now All corners darkened. But hidden by the black is one door remains opening to a whole hall way..Anew beginning. She walks out see a hallway of door next to door, and with curiously she opens one. Gazing into them she them, all those dolls, a room of nothing but dolls stacked up on shelves, lead up to the ceiling and the ceiling seemed endless. But if you look farther down this hallway, there is one great steel door. If your weak enough you can open it. When the door slides open out comes candy mixed with razor blades complete opposites. Both feed each other. The she wonders which one, which one. Not able to decided and unknowing what she will end up with she reaches in with gluttony for the candy and comes out holding scars all over her body from all the cuts of the razor blades because she grabbed the candy with for selfish emotions a price to pay to be able to feel, TO BE ABLE TO FEEL.



She eats the  candy to numb her emotions, cause of the pain of the love from the razor blades is to much for her to handle. Bent over the pile on her knees she holds the blood-stained candy in her palm of her hand, picking apart the razor blades and the candy. In her hands searching, searching for the right sweet to numb it all, al the pain, all the love, all the decaying tears, rather not feel, more of a curse then a blessing she says. She eats the candy to try to numb all emotions. The cuts make her feel so real but, she just want to be another doll, just nothing to feel. An addicted to the sweets. An Addict to the suffering. A never ending cycle. NUMB TO THE WORLD.