My puppeteer birthed me and

Pulls my strings because she loves me.

I’m her life, I’m her passion, and her purpose don’t you see?

So it’s only out of the deepest love that she has these plans for me.

When my puppeteer got pregnant at last she didn’t feel alone.

I’d be her mini-me to lean on.

At last a person she could own.

So she pulls my tired strings.

I try to keep her calm and proud.

But now my pointy sides are

squi

s

h

e

d

Spreading my broken wings is not allowed.

I love her and I need her

She’s done everything for me.

There’s comfort in control so

Who needs autonomy?

I’m a person too

But I’m exhausted.

And I’m infected by her fear.

I’ll never, ever leave her

My darling puppeteer.