Life, the Obstacle Course

The Broken Dolls of My Childhood

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I had, broken my SHARE of dolls of my childhood days all right, and, NOT all of them were, porcelains either!!!

There was that one, that his STUPID son failed to catch, as I, acted out the anxieties of the possibilities of them getting a divorce, as their marriage, HIT the rocks, and, they didn’t divorce right then, and what’s shattered, wasn’t just, that doll that his stupid son failed to catch, I’d, shattered too.

one that’s, physically broken like this…not my photo…

And, there were those, made from, sturdier materials (aka. cloth or plastic???), that I’d, sexually molested (yeah, so???), I’d, stripped their clothes off at night, in the darkness (‘cuz that’s when the monsters usually come!!!), and did bad things (unmentionable, ‘cuz this is a PG 13 to R rated site, not an X-rated one!!!) to them…

Well, don’t know when, I’d, stopped, playing with dolls, must’ve been, very long ago, ‘cuz after my younger girl cousin had, shattered that final and last porcelain doll from my childhood, I’d, stopped wanting dolls or toys for birthdays and Christmases, or whatever OTHER celebratory occasions there may have been.

on the inside…not my artwork still…

 

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