Feb 11

Puppet Master by Triana Bermudez

2 comments

You control me as your puppet

Every string you pull pushes against my spine,

As if our minds no longer think alike.

My body aches as you hang me off that broken coat hanger full of dust mites.

Nothing satisfies your hunger, not even my dying spirit.

 

You lock me in that case, where I suffocate and my lungs start to collapse.

I’m so uncomfortable in this place, but you don’t care.

I’m all just for show as you enjoy that green full of blood flow.

 

Another show passes, my outfit deteriorates.

My legs screws needs tightening.

But you still don’t care.

You put me to the side and bring your new puppet.

Welcome to the show.

Feb 12

Take it over the top in pain, irony.. Are you broken? Do you see the end? Are you dying inside? Show the disregard with more visuals. I’m all just for show as you enjoy that green full of blood flow. "?... I don't get this line"

 

Riveting. The tone of the voice can be described as nearly...hollow, emphasizing the fact of the individual feeling like a "puppet." Your writing is always so intense and pulls from deep waters.

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