little doll
grew underground
her eyes to see
what there was found
the dark
the seeds
the roots
grew leaves
and tiny trees
graced both her cheeks

Palest queen
of ice and snow
just lack of warmth
and H2O
In her camouflage of white
she nearly fades just out of sight.
A fortress of twigs will keep out most
except for those who can see
this ghost.

Cross my heart
and hope to die
Stick a needle in my eye
All my promises are breaking.
I know the cost
But who promised those things?
She no longer exists.

Two sisters once shared secrets,
and a room.
But then, things happened.
They took up jobs in different households.
One cared for mother, one for father.
Each forgot they were a sister.
Many years later,
they run into each other quite by surprise.
They each barely recognize the other
Except they are both
wearing the same strange hats,
both dreaming the same strange dreams, the same flowers growing in their gardens.

My hands make little hands.

http://murphydesign1.blogspot.com/2010/04/survey-select-press-release.html

I am the good baby.

I never make a fuss.
Such a quiet child. No demands. I can be whatever you like.
But watch out:
for all my sweetness demands a devouring.
One day I may swallow this house, but right before I do I will speak all of the things that I never said.