Doll

When you look at her, it's like she's trying
to say something with her never-moving eyes only
staring, her empty head thinking,
her mouth not moving but wanting to, yelling
with no sound but the sound of the bouncing
through her head of a silent scream. Every day
and night, it's like something gnawing at her soul:
being dressed and undressed, being exposed
and embarrassed, feeling empty when she's left
in a dusty old corner. She wants to cry, but nothing
comes out but her creepy stare, her outfits
and accessories, bright and exploding with color.