I write poems — Re-read them
Internalize the Realization
That I speak of me as Dead.
I worked a long hard life to build Me
Into some Barbie Doll Mother Theresa
mixed canvass image of what I thought
was the right thing to grow up to Be.
The doll murdered
with malicious cruel stabs of a knife
this utter evisceration and defacement bleeding
into this horror that only belongs to the Heart
of an angry hurt Child in Raging Tantrum.
Built her — an elegant Malibu House
with the perfect beautiful Ken Doll
to wield the blade, light the flame.
And the Watcher in me took in the show
from a plush velvet chair high up in the balcony —
clapping, coercing, applauding, tsk-tsk-tsking
as the Show played to a packed house
and garnered bittersweet reviews from the Critics.