Matryoshka Doll Poem by Victoria Annette Bailey

The doorframe has your shape attached
I think you may be there,
Bloodied butterflies dance beside your step
Get tangled in your hair.
Smother the silence in nicotine
Peace face down at the floor,
Industrial halo frames your face,
As you stand in the door.
I'm no longer human, I have no eyes
I sleep in our cellophane bed,
I'm just a Matryoshka doll
Multiple faces painted red.
You kill me in my every wake,
Each morning I waste away
Smaller as I start anew
You lace through every day.