I stand in the center of paper dolls;
I'm the little hole in all that surpass me in height
I try to move but pain says hello at every angle,
as I hold onto that silver star with all my might.
They all are dressed the same;
in tattered skirts and high neck tans
Fingers leave the same dark print,
shoes leave the same pattern in the sand.
Their eyes are faded to the same shade of fog;
their voices all speak in the same honey-less tone
The cut around them whispers the same poisoned tongue;
slicing through my being, digging until they reach the bone.
I try to scream as they tug at my hair;
I thrash when they try to pull me down
Words are forced down my throat when I try to speak;
my individuality is stripped when they throw me to the ground.
One hand finds it's way up
from under the white and crimson tears,
A lost soul hoping for something that will never happen,
the star still clung tight in it's rusted gears.
Suddenly a ray of crystal shines from above;
burning through their fanged and corrupted hearts
The same pitched screeches sound throughout,
paper dolls still clawing as it tears them apart.
My eyes are faded when a strong hand grabs mine,
pulling me up from the pits of cut out hell
soft words fill my broken ears,
lifting me up from the depths of a torture cell.
They're all so different, the ones who pulled me up,
each one is smiling; covered in paint splatters and ink,
With voices like the shuffle button on an ipod,
each one is their own definition of unique.
With one cautious step into the melting pools of white I'm back,
smiling, my footsteps disappear as I rush over into their embrace
The paper dolls are left behind as my friends put their arms around me- once again my saving grace.
