help me.

I wish I could find an explanation
for this madness growing on my soul
like mold clinging to the floorboards.
Spreading. Tearing at my foundation.

With my threads cut my limbs lay motionless,
my spirit unwavering. A blank gaze from my glass eyes.
Longing.

The stuffing sneaking out of my fabric skin. They tear it out with their claws, their words, their scalpels, their hearts. They sew me back together a shell of my former self.
They swipe it off the beach, never bothering to peak at the remains of me. What was left inside. Listen to the ocean and hear my cries hiding beneath the winds.

My kin drew a smile on my face and cast me out to live on the streets with a cardboard sign in my hands. Crying out for a light. Screaming in desperation. They abandoned me and laughed at my plight as they walked down the streets with all my dreams on their backs.

The hunger for love gnawed at my stomach until I grew too ill to fight for it anymore.
The ghosts gathered my emotions to make jewelry and ornaments for themselves.
And there I was left.
Without the sorrow to cry over my misfortunes
or the anger to rage and destroy.
Without the strength to even fake the happiness
that had plagued me for all these years.