a constant narrative

your characters

they were so out of character

this constant narrative you write

is more or less a constant reminder 

they lost them woodenly

joints

 hinges 

  porcelain 

a symphony of bones

shattering

ending your fantasy.

we are not characterized

we cannot go against our script_lines

we are not out of character

our curved arms of steel 

and brass hands will shine

we'll loose them solidly 

muscles

 skin

  cartilage 

a symphony of clockwork

rusting

ending whatever role we held

believing it to be a fantasy.

you don't understand a vital

difference

between clockwork and the

mannequins 

in your 

head