Barbie lived unloved
in my underwear drawer,
that my heart yearned for other
dolls (with weird and bite) like me.
bits on writing and living
I grew up thinking I hated dolls… I was especially suspicious of Barbie’s slightly vacant smile. In fact, I couldn’t stand the doll. But since Fate delights in laughing at her children, someone (no one truly close to me) would always give me a Barbie to unlove for years and years and years…
A few decades later… after I could procure my own dolls, I realized that it wasn’t dolls I didn’t care for. I just needed dollies that spoked to me. Had anyone given me a pissed off unicorn doll, or a slightly dreamy sheep doll, or a smirking doll with button eyes, I would’ve loved dolls as a wee girl.
The same is true about my love for reading and writing poetry. If someone would’ve introduced me to poems that embraced my weird (just the way I like it), poetry and I would’ve been loving each other madly for years and years and years… Then again, who knows, maybe Fate is just the smartest of them all. She understood that a soul should live a little (or a lot) before kissing poetry on the mouth (and playing with dolls that can bite).
linked to Poets United (love), to Holly’s 8th Annual Vampire’s Day Soirée, and to Blogging Around with Rommy (week 5)
Mavis (vampire sheep, by Gina Morley)
Drusilla (vampire dolly, by Groovy Gothic)
Princess Unikitty (from The LEGO Movie)