Rag Doll Poem by Amy Sutton

'I don't want him.'
He's thrust back,
Ripped,
Stripped –
The victim of a cruel child.
Needles pushed into his eyes,
Sagging, stuffing spilling
From the scissor cuts,
And only enough tattered soul left
To feel it.

How can I fix this for you?
I can wipe away the tear stains,
I can sew up the wounds,
But they show,
They show,
And you can see, below,
The worn stitches
Of so many before.

Taboo scolds me
For wishing to kiss it better.
It's all I can do to hold him
And stroke his threadbare head
And bite down the
Sneaking
Creeping
Cruel
But oh-so-true words,
'I told you so.'