Innocent Dolls

Most little girls have at least one,

But not me.

Most girls pushed them in buggies,

I refuse to do so.

The plastic faces, as innocent as

The child who carries them.

I don’t see the innocence.

I witness the nightmare hidden

Within the lifeless eyes.

The eyes that follow me wherever I hide,

Waiting for my guard to fall down.

The hollow feet not made for walking,

I can see them ready to run.

The tiny hands not meant for anything,

I know they’re waiting,

Waiting for my shield to be down.

Waiting to reach, with a lifeless hand,

For the knife.