Monday, 3 July 2017

The Doll...Part 1 (January 22, 2011)

Stacey stood
Before the glass shelves
Barely moving a muscle.

Where Jane
Her older sister
Kept her valuable collection
Of porcelain dolls.

She had been warned
Numerous times
To never touch them.

But
Temptation kept her
Coming back
For one more touch.

“It’s not fair
Jane gets dolls
And I don’t”
Stacey thought to herself.

The Grandfather clock
Started to chime 4 pm
In the living room.

A panicky Stacey
Raced from Jane’s room
Into her own.

Changing back
Into her “male” self
Before she outed herself
To the family.

Stacey is
A 12 years old boy
Named Stuart.

Who'd been dressing up
For the past 3 years
Before realizing
He's a girl trapped
Inside a boy’s body.

Although
He hasn't tried Jane’s
Or his mom’s make-up
Yet.

Only
A matter of time
Before he does.

Normally
He put away
All his feminine clothing
Without any visible signs
To be seen.

Bought
Last summer
At a local thrift shop
On a friend's dare.

In his mad dash
To change back
A stray pair
Of navy blue nylons
Poked out
From the highboy dresser.

As Jane poked her head
Into his room
To see
Where he was
And doing what.

Since the house
Was totally quiet
Quite unusual for Stuart
Since he played
The Cure
24/7.

A quick scan of his room
Showed Stuart
Sitting on his bed.

Trying to understand
But growing frustrated
With the assigned math homework
Which he could not grasp
The principles behind
The trig questions.

As her eyes roam over
The rest of the bedroom
She saw the telltale nylons
But choose not to mention them
Yet.

Not quite sure
What to make of them
Wondering
If they had been taken
From her nylon drawer.

But wanted solid proof
First before a confrontation
As she left him
Alone.

Catching Jane’s disappearing head
Stuart let out
A sigh of relief.

Only to see
The toe of the nylons
Sticking out
Of their hiding spot.

“Oh God
Please pretty please
Don’t let Jane see
Those navy blue nylons”.

Silently
He pleaded.

Hoping for the best
Fearing the worse.

Knowing
Jane will use this
Against him
Like she always does.

Dejectedly
He replaced the nylons
Back into their hiding spot
Gently shutting
The dresser drawer.

Therisa © 2011

Author's note: Another poem, taken from my poetic morgue. Due to the length, I have divided this poem, into 6 parts, for easier reading.

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