Smile at the stapler.

The smile was stuck, happy and joyous.

So large and gleaming, with teeth sheen.

The skin stretched around the cool metal bands.

He told me I should smile more.

I should have just listened. I shouldn’t have revealed I couldn’t remember how to smile.

But instead I fought against him as he stuck his meaty fingers inside my mouth and stretched the skin until it was no longer skin.

Until all it was, was puppet strings.

And he stapled them to his fingers, Stapling my stretched skin open.

His words were spades of persuasion as he licked my eyes, and smile was all I could do. And I was stuck.

Even after I ran to where strings were no longer attached to a puppet master.

I was stuck,

I was stuck,

I am stuck

but my smile still stays.

~R.P Proudlove

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/yuorop/such_is_love/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/yv8fn0/ive_been_dead_since_then/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf