Frankenstein

My mouth is sewn shut with a soft pink ribbon
My eyes hide their venom behind
voluminous lashes
I curl my fingers 'round my
dislocated jawbone
and twist and pull those joints-
those nerves which
forgot how to hold shape or
form words

It wears on me like
an itchy, old sweater,
as he paces the room with his questions
and his answers
My jaw should be set and
hard as a mountain;
my lips should be trembling and
forming my outrage
But I'm sewn like a doll-y
with pink ribbons and stitches-
a smile on a mannequin-
some beauty from her silence

I cannot fathom why I've come undone
But more so, why I
have chosen to sew these
frayed and exhausted parts back together
to impersonate an idea of something
inherently broken
to make him feel better
when he's asking his
questionable questions
to hide that I have no voice
to ask questions of my own.