Situated in a corner of darkness,
she was made silent.
Her eyes, wide and watchful,
spoke the grief they never let her name.
Their hollow pride and glittering cruelty
displaced her from softness,
carving a shell where her voice once lived.
A puppet—
her strings pulled by careless hands,
her will turned into woe.
They fed her malice masked as charm,
called her "curious"
while they clipped her wings.
She dreams of what it means to be free—
to cut the cords,
to rise without permission.
But how can still thoughts sing
when her voice is knotted in string?
She is the myth they fear—
glassless eyes gleaming,
watching the lies dressed as love.
A puppet with strings.
But one day—
she may move without them.
𓋏
- Marionette
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YOU ARE READING
the words I kept
Poetry"𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓲𝓼𝓱..." these are the feelings I carried with me, thoughts I held back, scars I hid, and all the words I kept; my friend and my foe. Warning: some may be triggering, dis...
