Painted Smile

Hollow chest

like a porcelain doll the old creepy kind with the open head

stiff wig covering the hollow, cavernous access to the soulless shape of a girl

instead of living her own real life she’s toted around in a basket

cryptic notes detailing days never chosen, only proximally lived slipped under loosening curls

squashed down inside an unflinching body until paper’s fused all mashed and bulging her fragile china torso in danger of exploding

pressure sends chips and chunks crashing to the ground in a skin-rending pile on the bedroom rug

now, this cursed wad of memories must be carefully unraveled curly letters untangled

each scrap pinned to the fortune board to be burned when the wind dies down

every razor sharp shard cataloged for an expert hand to reassemble like a puzzle with epoxy, repainting till she’s good as new

K.B. Silver

This poem was originally published on substack, thanks for reading ❤