Friday, 1 May 2009
I am locked in a box,
Twist the crooked golden coloured handle to watch me spring open.
As you flick the vintage latch you are welcomed by a dazzling sound. I spin for your aesthetics; if you wind me up I dance forever.
Look at me spin to a never ending lullaby, twirling and whirling in a clockwork circle.
My painted face veils my emotion, but inside my heart is tar nation. Listen to my melancholy chime, it may sound pleasant to you, but it stings my ears as it plays all the time.
My perfect stature is delicate unlike yours. I dance to a splendorous sound till dawn. I am a vision of delicacy and beauty, but looking after your collections is my duty.
My vision dizzies as I turn around and around to a constant sound, that makes my thoughts crumble, like a torn up cloud as I turn in constant motion.
The twitching music echoes my taut movement, free me from my chamber and set my heart free as you turn the key that reins my every joint. There is a key shaped hole in my heart waiting to be opened, requite my love and it will no longer be locked.
I will look after your treasures and trinkets, your collecting charms, your buttons and badges that adorn the jewellery box that is slowly falling apart. A pocket sized key ring you gave no use for, a doll’s house teaspoon and cup you wear on a chain close to your heart. A locked pendant with two unseen photos of two lost loves that will never be reopened. A pocket watch laying face up, if I could escape I would write all my problems on the back of the watch, they say time heals all wounds as without you I am lost.
Watch me drift in a hazy sparkled splendour. If you let me love you I would circle slowly and no one would ever need to know. Can you see my fraying tutu as I twist and circle, it used to be pink and purple, but is now faded like my pale pink lips which have yet to be kissed. One of my hands is chipped and broken; never to be held as I’ll tear your hand to flakes and splinter your face.
I live in a velvet plush of dusky pink and purple shimmers of colour. I only see a glimmer of real life that is seen through you. You set my thoughts alight. I peer through a kaleidoscope of coloured mirrored shine. I longed for you but you left me behind, with a single kiss or lullaby. while I'll wait, wonder and listen in this claustrophobic box that glistens.
As you shut the box, I bend and fold; I am tired and over one hundred years old. As you seal the lid my plastic heart shatters, into a million unsolved puzzle pieces longing for you to come back and fix them back together.
I will watch you as you fade away, collecting droplets of dust, whenever you reopen the box.
If I was ever set free in summer we would dance through sheets of crisp green grass slow and swirl and sway in the midnight’s breeze and never let each other go.
I will twist along to the eternal song as you sing along to the constant, constant music.
Inside I am old, if I could feel, your gaze would burn my skin cold.
Your jewellery and oddments will be broken and unguarded if I cease dancing. As you leave me alone it drowns me with sadness.
I glimpse at my dusty, dismal conception in the cracked mirror. I sparingly wish I couldn’t see my porcelain reflection.
I long to be the necklace wrapped around your beautiful neck. I dissolve in your blue pooled eyes that erase my tears.
I have guarded your tokens over the mouldering, dusty years, yet my painted tainted face has never spoken not even once.
I can never be with you, never close to your heart as I am clung to the box, twisted to the spring, forever chained to look after your possessions and continually spin, spin. spin.