The Mannequin and the Doll

By: Tara Phillips and Anton Caruso

i’m a mannequin, a marionette man, my actions preplanned. 
i go through my motions, i do a little dance. My movements based off the crowd’s applause 
i give a little wave because 
that’s what i was made to do, that’s what i’m made to do, that’s what she makes me do.

I’m a doll, a pretty porcelain face all dressed in lace, skinny waist, bitter taste, black shoes never unlaced
pretty posed in the perfect place,
encased in a glass case doll. He calls me his doll, one breath and I fall
I bow to him, his pretty porcelain doll.

I used to be barbie, now i’m just his malibu property
I put her on display, every part of her is up for play
I’m not feeling this today, it’s okay
stop touching me, it’s okay
stop touching me, it’s okay
what, do you not love me? trust me?

she’s my persecutor, my puppeteer, wiping away puppet tears, masking my problems from my puppet peers
controlling every one of his puppet gears, exploiting every one of his puppet fears
Her voice in my heads is the only thing this puppet hears. She’s in my head, hand held and hand fed
I’ve got him in a chokehold 
a nylon noose thread, she’s pulling the strings inside my head, i’m holding on by the end of this thread. She’s sentenced me to death but I’m already dead.

Abuse take two, thats me and that’s you. Roses are red and our bruises are blue
it’s hard moving on to something new
When someone’s sucking the life out of you, So we sit and we listen to what they ask us to do
Because, what’s a doll, What’s a puppet to do

when i’m lied to by the person i’m tied to, escape these strings, i’ve tried to, but without these strings we have no use

so please, cut me loose