the moon was her only audience.
loud as she screamed no one would listen,
only pulling her to and fro as a marionette
created to abide by her puppeteer's desires.
her feet moved on their own, cracking with every arranged step.
her porcelain skin fell apart, revealing its hollow inside with every breath.
empty were her dreams and goals,
stolen by the constant desire to do what was told.
after all, what was a marionette without its strings?
only a useless doll who couldn't sing.