Poem carved in wood and flesh

Pull my strings,
Lift me up.
Twist my handles,
I can't wake up.
Bend my joints,
Jerk my digit.
Turn my head,
I'm just a puppet.

Make me giggle,
Make me pout,
Make me run
And scream
And shout.
Don't put me down,
Don't let me fall.
Don't hang me on
Your closet's wall.
I can be a ballerina,
A dog,
A pirate,
But no matter what
I'm just a puppet.

You have a hold on me,
You just don't know;
A hold so tight
I can't make you let go.
You pull me along,
Swinging side to side,
Forever staring
On this dangerous joyride.
You laugh because I'm stuck,
You laugh because I'm a fagot*.
You laugh because I'm still but
I'm just a puppet.

You taunt, you tease,
You laugh, you sneer.
You giggle and say
"What have we here?"
A puppet is what you see,
A puppet so weak,
So much like me.
I sit there and stare
While you tease and play,
But it's my limit
When you stop and say,
"Come on, little puppet!
Dance, little freak!
Dance, you bitch,
Sitting so lazily!"

A bitch am I,
So lazy is me.
That was when
I jumped up
And said happily,
"My dear,
You don't know what I can do,
Don't know what I can do
To a worm like you!"

And then I smile,
Flashing these fangs,
Before I jump forward
Among screams and clangs
Of the wood of my handle,
The zip of my strings,
The tear of your flesh,
The fun of my killing.

A tongue so long,
So thick and so sharp,
Shoots out between my fangs
And into your heart.
I bathe in your blood,
So delicious and salty.
It stains my face
Like a bad case of acne.
Hours pass
And I'm hanging tangled in my strings.
You're lying there, motionless,
Your blood seeping
Through the wood of the floor
And the dirt underneath...

Sweet Sod,
Do you know how pretty
You look with your insides
And anguish and blood,
Staining your clothes,
Your body, your forehead?
Ah, my dear,
If only you could see
How happy and full of life
You've made me
Simply by playing
And treating me
Like your toy, your slave,
You're loyal pet.
If only you'd realized sooner
I'm not your puppet.