xxanastasiaxx

What is reality?
I am a plaster doll: I pose
with eyes that cut open without landfall or nightfall
upon some shellacked and grinning person,
eyes that open, blue, steel and close.
Am I appoximately an I, Magnin transplant?
I have hair, black angel
black angel stuffing to comb
nylon legs, luminous arms
and some advertised clothes....

What is reality
to this synthetic doll
who should smile, who should shift gears,
should spring the doors open in a wholesome disorder,
and have no evidence of ruin or fears?
but i would cry,
rooted into the wall that was once my mother,
If I could remember how
and if I had the tears.
-Anne Sexton

*********************T
(after talking to the powers that be in Belgium)
They tell me anything to get me to leave
they love me
superficially of course.
there were always reasons
reasons to not go
but I have run out of reasons
my pockets are empty
I have no more tricks up my sleeve
nothing left to keep me here
it's only for a little while they say
(they love you here)
and for some reason I don't believe
I feel like I have sold my soul.