dolls: defined

i never played with dolls like other girls did. still

i feel the pain the porcelain caused;

the pink, purple, and crimson blended –

painting an idea of what beauty should or shouldn’t be. 

my childhood is protected in bubble wrap

that pops and whines when pierced,

but is somehow alluring to peel back and 

uncover the dusty, hidden figures

with their dresses and bows –

examples of girlhood that showed me 

i’d rather live in “personhood” than womanhood.

i never played with dolls, not because 

of the feminine ideal they painted

in aphrodisiac and delicate strokes – 

but because they never looked,

smiled, stood, or spoke how my

Filipino features look, smile, 

stand, and speak.

whilst it was never engraved 

in my innocent mind that 

different was different from the girl i was 

and the girl still living in me,

this fear of uniqueness is piercing and heavy

as i come to the realization

that it was never the dolls

who told me i was different.

instead, they told you.

these dolls did not have voices.

each time i held one in my hand,

i heard your voice once again:

“You will never find yourself on these shelves.”