Puppet MasterA Poem by Frieda Pi melted, you restored me melded the unhinged parts taught me how to dance again colored my view brightly in your inception, then placed me high on a shelf to dry there was a permeable crash into me reanimated by your commanding broadsword you painted my eyes cobalt blue, they were brown, my lips a pout'y gothic black when i asked if I was pretty enough yet your response added putty to my head painted strands of golden locks fell into my eyes i couldn't see what had befallen my stare when i moaned i was not comfortably real you proceeded to start all over again dipped your brush in silver molten pots drew my lips closed, tracing my eyes wide open then a design that took me to bed abiding pupils dilated wide shut desecrated your creation, dipping repeatedly brush stokes the color of indignant ice water my facade began to decay, once your masterpiece was strung perfectly, dangled directly upon stark mantel aloft the burnt blue embers to be sculpted hung and perfectly molded, sparsely dressed and practicable prepared and ready for aesthetic recesses
© 2013 Frieda PAuthor's Note
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Added on April 25, 2013Last Updated on April 27, 2013 AuthorFrieda PNJAboutIf you want to know me, read my poetry, it's all in there. I am a mother of three sons (my finest moments) a sister, a survivor and a little bit crazy. I lost my beloved sister to suicide, so you'll.. more..Writing
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