Little Frankenstein girl
by Debbie Kirk
(February 1st, 2004)














Little Frankenstein girl
has the hands of a pianist
And the heart of a broken organ
With thorns, glass
Bats and Indian ink
Seeping thro…
Sewn together
Crookedly stitched
Like a pastel valentine heart
Filled with mismatched parts

Little Frankenstein girl
Has the right brain of a killer
Her right hand is dominant
While her left foot always faces away
Wanting to disconnect
To run
To be free

To not be part of this
Fucked up experiment
Dreamt up by
A genius dressed in rags
And chased by demons
The kind that really scratch and bite
When you are fast asleep

Little Frankenstein girl
Is not a little girl anymore
The curls in her hair
Dreaded up in the sun
Medusa in the wind

Her loud strong voice
Muffled under the stitches
That firmly binds her lips together
Bondage bringing pleasure
Only to those who wish
To keep her silent
(and they are many)

The little Frankenstein girl
Can’t count the stitches on her wrists
From all of those nights
With her right hand doing
What her left foot
Wanted to walk away from
And her not understanding
That she was never really alive
In the first place

Little Frankenstein girl
All mixed up
And
Mix matched
Returning every evening
With fresh wounds to be sewn
From another vain attempt
To be mortal for just a few seconds
Before the fall

Little Frankenstein girl
Stolen parts
Come with stolen lies
Maggots and flies.
The gravedigger, looking to make a buck
Steals her a kiss
The moistness quenches her lips
He promises more kisses tomorrow
She scurries home
Knowing full well
She’s damned to a life of stolen kisses
And malfunctioning hearts
that spit in the moonlight.