When I was little, my sister and I played with dolls. We had all sorts, mostly Barbies. And I'm lying in bed, my face melting off with my acid tears because you can never know how much I need you, but Jesus Christ, I let you go and why the fuck did I do that? Will you really be better off? I know I'd love you better than you could ever understand and I know you'd love me and we'd be happy together. Your new name is Ducky. Because you're my what if- friend who did the nice thing and let me get into a relationship that we both know might not pan out.
Back to the Barbies. My sister and I had so many, but the only one I can still remember was this tan, blonde, blue-eyed, sex-toy of a Barbie doll who was left out in the San Jose sun one day and her chest melted and became as concave as an anorexic's eye socket and They Turned white and none of the dresses ever fit her right. I remember this barbie Because She Was Different. She Was as fucked up on the Outside as I Knew I'd Become and Have Become And She Was sort of my role model Because Even Though She Was so melted and awkward, she was my favorite.
My face is still salty and has black zebra-stripes running down in odd patterns. I Kept turning my head as the little black beads ran down my face, so the stripes No Longer just outline my cheeks and nose. I am a terrible person Because I'm in love and I can not let go That Are and two of us screwed. And one is totally oblivious and the Other is talking about stupid dolls That match melted her face tear-melted. And the two kids screwed Are TogetherThey Promised Because They Would Be.
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