China Doll

Despicable figure
collapsed on the floor
bleeding in the rain.
No one cared for her
at least in her depression.
Dug herself a pit
hid and cut her wrists.
Had just enough strength
to climb back out.
Everyone's laughing now
at her small despondent form
bleeding out on the ground.

Life became too painful
Love became useless and impossible.
Hate was all she ever knew
till she finally went numb.
Writing filled any page she could find
but line after line
day after day
writing lost its joy.
She couldn't write fast enough
to save herself.
She understood only half of what she wrote
found that people shunned her quotes,
scared of how much she knew.
Wise beyond her sixteen years
people feared what they knew not.

As people feared her
they put her on the shelf,
then piled stuff on top.
Trying to climb out
back to the "normal" world.
No one to talk to
started talking to herself.
A friend came over
tried to pull her from the mess.
Heard her morbid conversation
asked who else could be down there.
Replied in madness
scared her "friend" away.
Only half-way out of the rubble
Afraid that she'd never get out.
A Boy came by, thought she was a doll
took her off the shelf.
Boy was cruel
and smashed her into pieces.
She started crying woke up from her trance
Boy got scared
didn't want to get in trouble
got up, left, just ran away.
Left her in the dirt
carefully, yet halfhazardly,
she put herself back together.

Broken, taped back together again
she found her crystal heart,
picked it up
and threw it away.
It wasn't worth anything anyway.
Crawled back to some semblance of consciousness
whatever was left of her soul.

Sat down in a shop
conversing with China dolls.
The dolls were mean
gloating over her flaws.
Up on the shelf
no one wanted her.
At night she cried
invisible tears
for her life seemed never to end.
One day some collector came in
took her off the shelf.
She sat up straight
tried to look her best,
a hint of a smile played across her lips.
Collector took her home
set her on the desk.
Collector started talking to her
at least that's what she thought.
She learned a great many things
most of which she knew.

Day by day
she watched Collector write.
What she wouldn't give
to put pen to paper again.
After awhile Collector forgot her
and dust clouded her eyes.
She realized Collector had never talked to her
but to Collector's self.
She found Collector
collected dolls like her
to keep from falling to their fate.
And as she realized this
Collector put her on the shelf.
Collector had bought another doll
broken and taped up,
trying to look his best.
She felt sad for this doll
as he felt he was to have a new life.
She glanced at all the other dolls
in that dark and dusty room.
All of them, including her
had lost the power of speech.
First they stopped writing
and began silently dying
friendless on these shelves.
Then one day
Collector's friend came in
and had a look around.
She sat up a little
curious
she liked the look of this Stranger.
He asked Collector if he could take her
and lifted her off the shelf.

She tried to shrink back
resigned to thinking new horrors
awaited with this Stranger.
And off Stranger went
actually talking to her.
Said his name was Orion
"What an odd name" was her only thought
for thoughts were few those days.
Orion continued talking to her
people avoided his madness.
She paid no attention for a while
thought he was talking to himself.
Then she realized he was trying to name her
but she didn't want a new name.
He kept up a steady stream
flowing from his lips,
pausing at intervals for any sign of response
and he must have seen something
for he looked at her critically.
Then asked her if she had a name
Unable to reply, for her loss of speech
she tried to nod her head.

By then they'd reached their destination
wherever the hell that was.
Orion took her inside a dark building
turned on the lights and she gasped
amazed by what she saw.
No shelves with dolls
but only books,
all of which he wrote
or so she thought at the time.
Until she saw a section,
a section with her name.
He took her over to those shelves
full of her every work.
She knew if she could look at them
read them one last time,
her life would be renewed.
But he set her down
just out of their reach.
She was so close
to speaking again,
but she'd known
this was going to be torture.
Orion stayed up late that night
just reading her best poems.
He finally got tired
and went to sleep
leaving her on the desk.

So irritating that lack of thought
the cobwebs in her mind
made her unable to form a plan.
She sat on the desk
and tried to think
thoughts fleeing from her grasp.
First the loss of writing
then the power of speech
and now the flight of thought.
She sat until the sun came up
Orion along with it.
He made himself breakfast
talking to her all the while.
She vaguely wondered if she might be able
to read her books today.
After he ate, he went back to the shelves
and began to read aloud.
She sat straight up
this was better than nothing.
They got through more than half that day
but Orion went to bed.
She found her thoughts were more forthcoming
and breathed a sigh of relief.
Found herself becoming more normal
back to the "real" world.
The next day passed in much the same way
though her works kept getting longer.

They got through ten books that second day
before the moon came up.
The third day they only got through five
she wished he would read faster.
The days went by
time started slowing down.
She began to panic
if time stopped before they finished
what would become of the world?
Would time stay still for eternity
or only for a moment?
Unless the death of time
meant destruction for the universe
for all reality.
She thought that might be welcome.

Her thoughts came back
she could think without any problems.
But every time she tried to speak
the words eluded her.
The weeks went by
and they began to near the end.
Her excitement grew
day by day
as the stack grew ever smaller.
Orion still didn't read fast enough
but she found she didn't mind.
Then the day came
when he finished the last book.

They both waited expectantly
for something to happen.
But as hours went by
she realized what was wrong.
He had not read all her works aloud
she thought back to that first night.
He'd read her best poems to himself,
which helped her not a bit.
Orion was tired and went to sleep
disappointed with himself.
He felt he'd failed at helping someone
though he had no idea why.
She hoped he would realize in the morning
what he hadn't that night.
If not she would have to try
to figure out
how to make him understand.
Luckily in the morning
he put the books away
and found out what was wrong.
They finished the poems
and waited a minute
but nothing seemed to happen.

She sighed for she thought that all was lost
that she'd be stuck like this forever.
But he gasped at her sigh
she realized he'd heard it.
So she tried to speak
and two words came out
a simple, small "Thank you."

After that they started talking
conversing for long hours.
She confessed at being
relieved to speak her mind.
Orion found her fascinating
and became infatuated.
He slowly began to fall in love
with this writer who'd been through Hell.
She was fond of him
but could not feel the same way
for you may recall she threw her heart away.
Found that without her heart
life wasn't worth living
and so she told him so.
He pleaded and begged
but it was of no use.
She said she would kill herself.
He told her they could look for her heart
she thought it over and shook her head,
wouldn't know where to begin looking.
He went out one day
and locked the door
but she got out anyway.

And here is where we left off
where everyone's laughing at her.
But you may notice she's not yet dead
only bleeding out.