Awakening A Nightmare

Voodoo Alice sinks her teeth
into the doll; cutting, chewing,
gnawing, making thin slits
for the eyes. The fabric wavers
round these parts as she inserts
the beads; glistening, shining,
dazzling, captivating all
with their over-achieving realism.
Capillaries are almost noticeable
amongst the fleshy sockets,
Alice sewing up the corners
with black current colored
string, before beginning
on the mouth. Thin crosses,
like the reassuring kiss of a lover
upon parchment to be delivered
to a paramour she has been forbidden
from contacting, cover
the gaunt grimace. The doll,
fraying yet complete, alive
but inanimate, looks out
onto the world, its outfit
like a clown, however, oozing
less with hilarity
and more with a purgatorial fixture,
rigidly stalking its intended prey
like a scarecrow in the bone-yard
of domesticated livelihoods,
and yet, still so innocent,
unknowing its body shall be used
to commence much ruin onto many.

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