Plastic Girl

My plastic feelings hang high up on the ceiling,

like wind up bats-

features dark and unappealing.

My plastic hands bend across your chest,

as I slowly peel your skin and steal away your flesh.

I am a plastic creation made out of borrowed sensations

my only mind is your mind,

a paper plane imagination

floating across the window of your soul,

as I peer across my future and what will soon be mine.

I used to be real

I used to be warm,

but the sun melted away my wings and I fell into the abyss of nothingness.

I woke up one day, earth coating my face, and I realized I had no place in this world.

the echo of time would haunt these hollow nights, but I could never remember why,

when I fell from the sky...

plastic was my toes, then my knees, then my breast,

and the rest of me became a plastic mystery...

you say I am yours, you say I am fantastic

you don't realize, that you never even touched the surface

I am only plastic.

I am constantly bending and reshaping my life

to see if I could feel something real,

but all I receive is temporary thrills and eternal strife...

Even if one day, I turn back to my old self

I'll still be this plastic thing, high up on a shelf,

wishing for once I could be something else...

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Few show real face to another. Which is sad.
"even if one day, I turn back to my old self
ill still be this plastic thing, high up on a shelf,
wishing for once she could be something else..."
The above lines I do understand. We can forget who we were. Thank you Angelina for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[A.G.]

that is true. thank you for understanding my poem (:
- Angelina

[Coyote Poetry]

I did dear Angelina and you are welcome.