BODY IMAGE Poem: Pull Apart Doll, by Dariah Mays-Dominguez

I’ve learned to become your pull apart dolls,
I can’t change this reflection carved into
this diamond mirror—
I’ve been burned into this glass.

My lungs wither, stomach sucked in,
I cry until the breath’s been wrung from my body—
Hang me out to dry.

I’ve taken this needle to my belly,
Sucking out this impurity you punish,
My pain collides with your perfection.

This mirror cracks under strain,
It’s cracked edges carving my mouth
into picket fence grins,
Twist my skin for your joy,
Spill this fools blood.

Stains in this white satin doll,
I hold myself together with pink ribbon and dandelions,
Engraving hips into a perfect hourglass.

Removing my ribs, it doesn’t matter
This is all for beauty,
You tell me beauty is pain,
And it seems my pain morphs into you beauty so I’ll keep it up.

I shave away this skin,
Sit in this bleach water bathtub, and
And sew my skin together with the edge of this knife,
Flowers become my thread.

This dead-faced girl,
Body devoured by rats,
Bereft of life.

Color me the shade of crimson
You find in running rivers
Of all this I’ve done to be your perfect
Pull apart doll.

Your reimagined picture
Has ended in my destruction