By Elizabeth Mercurio
she sighs
when I take her out
the same dumb doll
who bleeds for me
she has one blue eye
the other is a hole
nothing is good about her
she is disfigured
her plastic limbs
scoured clean
with an iv line
she doesn’t like me
she says terrible things
I feed her just the same
when she is done
I carry her back
to the bone yard where
the moon glitters
in her guise of white
her surface is darkness
I am not alone
a woman is here
she is blonde like me
strong as hell
miss world
misunderstood
her arm says let it bleed
together we scream
together we bury
that fucking doll
every time.
Elizabeth Mercurio is a poet and teacher residing in York, Pennsylvania. She earned a degree in English from the University of South Florida. Her work has appeared in The York Daily Record, Yorkfest Anthology 2014, and the blog Versify. She is currently at work on a chapbook collection of poetry. You can visit her at http://www.tenthmuse.ws/
Photograph by Michelle Johnsen, Magnified Cemetery