Without your arms to hold me up, I am stumbling like a whiskey drunk, slipping on your every smile & breaking my knees on the memories. I am crying & I cannot understand why the audience is clapping, I hit my chin on the bottom of my heart & still the cheering swells. I cannot find the exit, cannot find my feet, cannot find the cogs & gears winding through my own damn head. Strings slipping through fat fingers so I am without support, trying to stand on feet that were made to go with legs than lean. I am not made of iron-spine & steel-resolve. I am cotton & denim, folding & bending whenever pressure is applied. I'm falling, crashing, becoming what I swore I wld never be. I'd burn all the strings to ash, but I'm terrified I couldn't, wouldn't stop the flames before I was consumed. I'm alone. Feel so jaded, contemplative.You're such a fickle owner, I never amuse you for long. I wish you'd stop window shopping for a new & improved doll. Her pretty decaying gray eyes are far too innocent.