A sculpted paper doll
teardrops trickle down the page
pins and needles hold her in place
her face is wilting away

fields of pebbles and roses
falling ash rains over
silent stories never told
now washed away

poetry burning in her veins
desperation calls for drastic measures
razor blades turned to sand
her please were silenced and never heard

this woman developed by poetry
her life was in constant twilight
now ends her time that was made
upon a paper lived a doll