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in your tin house you sit in a chair and sigh as if the journey from the depths of some musty basement was too much bother you wanted to be thrown in the trash incinerated by some crass garbage man but no such luck your doppelganger doesn't have such an air of despondency her glazed doll eyes do not betray a soul when I take your picture I hear your faint cry you can not imagine one more day of doll life such existential angst being propped up watching me watch you we can be sad together here is your doll daughter maybe she can cheer you up what's that you say her mouth isn't painted on quite right her smile is just a smear you find it depressing to think about smeared smiles stuck on dolls being stuck in this house for an eternity of pretending you don't want to pretend anymore I take another picture of the despondent doll
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AuthorMichelle Tinklepaugh Archives
June 2023
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