so that none could find me
nor I could find myself
but am I really there?
Am I one with myself?
Perhaps no,
so does that make me liable to stay there
motionless like a mannequin,
I saw once at a mall
and tried to raise hands with
but mother rebuked me,
saying it doesn't exist
how easily she denied the existence of someone so distinctive?
Someone that I imagine
upon reading the word obedience
I wonder, how easily she stays there in an attire
that doesn't belong to her,
in a body that is still in search of a soul,
living a life of ignorance
believing everybody,
thinking they are her well-wishers
But does she have a choice?
She is a mute puppet or a dumb doll
as they want her to believe
in a bid to strengthen their false notions
and weak personalities
that need a wall to lean against
and a recliner to rely on,
and she is doing both for them,
unintentionally,
poor she.
Hello? Can you talk?
Hello?
We mistook her
for something else
because mannequins don't talk this way about others,
and she is a special one
because her boobs attract our customers
and when they pinch them,
she doesn't say a word,
but do we really care?
She is just a dummy,
and a jackpot that engages our clients,
and we get more sales.
Who cares more than that?