Her tragic doll in Poetry

She’s a porcelain doll
Sowed and stitch
The injuries that exist
Reveal their scars
She consumes another pill
To sedate her pain
Losing her sight
And going blind
To the words
She keeps inside

She wears the uniforms
We all create
Beautiful
From the disguise
She manipulates
Confused in this complex reality
And she doesn’t know
Where to hide or go
When the nightmares takeover
And control the show

Her camouflage addiction
Warps her mind
Walking the Earth
With nature as her guide
The disaster of her life
Reaches from heaven to hell
From the moon to the stars
Falling down
And breaking apart
From her “true” self

There are no words
In any language
That can express
How all her emotions
Have been raped inside
She cannot find a point to life
In all her analytical equations
All she can find
Are false hopes
As her wrists bleed
Her unspoken tragedies