I Am Looking For His Broken Porcelain Girl

Kaya Heimowitz

I am told that he made me to bask in his sunshine gaze. He speaks of my curves and tells me that I am beautiful. He stares at me and undresses me with his eyes, I think he sees delicate beauty, but I see Violence. Violence follows my tired form home in the dark; Violence leers at me across a parking lot. There is no line between pleasure and pain. There is no innocence left for him to take. I look in the mirror and I see skin and muscle and bone. I am looking for the delicate beauty he steals away from me daily. I am looking for the girl

he made out of porcelain. I am looking for the girl

he wants to devour. But all I see is a girl who screamed her way out of fleshy darkness,

only to be made into a porcelain doll that Violence wants to take apart slowly.

I am looking in the mirror every day

to gauge whether I am human or doll. I am looking for the girl who shatters against the pavement,

I am seeing the woman who stands back

up.