I’m glad you could come to visit
and keep me company this night.
Have you seen the marionettes
hanging on my wall?
Silly little things, aren’t they,
insignificant don’t you think?
They do seem to glance my direction;
What could they possibly want of me?
No, I did not put them there,
my aunt hung them, telling me
“Here you are my darlin’ girl,
to keep the evil spirits away”
as she hammers yet another nail.
Shhh… I have a secret to share with you.
these puppets freak me out.
Their tiny eyes slowly move,
following me as I cross the room to leave.
Elevated hands lift upward,
reach out for me,
without the pull of string.
My childhood? Why do you ask?
I do not speak of it much but…
Nightmare visions of unexpected darkness,
lights turned low and screams in the night.
As grandmother stood in the doorway
dabbing at the corners of her mouth,
mother would whisper assurances
“they were not death screams, my child,
just an owl hunting in the orchard.”
I do not recall an orchard near our house.
They could not fool me, could not hide
yet another victim they had devoured.
And the souls of their prey?
Well, come closer and I will tell you,
whisper it in your ear.
I am more certain each day,
each year that passes,
that their souls have been locked inside
the bodies of these creepy little dolls
now hanging on my wall.
I know it sounds ridiculous,
farfetched and absurd,
but each moment I come closer to the truth,
their faces grow darker, more evil.
Their eyes sink deep into wooden sockets,
turning black and bleeding
into the back of their hollow heads.
Do you see them?
Tell me you see them.
where small puppet hands once hung;
Nails black as the darkest night.
And now, look!
Blood soaked teeth, a few here and there,
sharp enough to slice out my heart.
Check my pulse!
No, please don’t go!
Clutch my wrist, be sure I’m still alive.
Look over there, there in the corner,
I see the newest puppet!
It wasn’t there this morning.
Bright and cheery,
blonde hair and blue eyes… watching me.
She looks so familiar, doesn’t she.
A small frown sits upon her lips,
is that a tear I see?
Oh dear god no….
Really, you should probably leave now.
It has taken me too long;
The realization of my end comes too late.
This puppet is a vessel, a prison for my soul.
There sits another puppet… over there!
Do you see it, does it seem familiar?
It sits upon my dresser… right… over there…
staring at you.
Is that a rapping at my door…
Mother has come to whisper in my ear.
October 15, 2010
Note: This is my Halloween Offering for 2010.