If I tip over, a body will fall out of my own,
a body made of bone twigs and red yarn for hair,
that jangles against itself like a marionette.
Her eyes are shaft buttons that sparkle like
they are not made of plastic, but
rather sliced from the most precious
part of Earth’s insides,
perfected and sewn to her face
by God’s tiny hands.
I am double edged.
I am a shadow inside of a shadow,
I have been carved out by time
and the sharp blade of bad decisions has
carved her stone out of me.
I am hollow, but she is free.