Ragdoll by Trini Rogando

​There are only so many ways a life can
           begin.
Most start tangled within a toymaker
          mother.
Others start unloved and
          silent
with only a hushed spool to wrap themselves
          around.
Are you uncomfortable? Perhaps you
          prefer
to hear how it ends. Sure. All humans
          die
quickly, regardless of beginnings. They
          live
to fight over wasted scraps, bloodying woven
          bodies
with what they do not possess. I have always
          dreamed
of a world where men
          are
made of ribbons. Where shared souls
          are
patchwork, not punchline. Perhaps
          there
my fingernails are caked with
          dirt
and tatter rather than the
          siphoned
absence of love. Perhaps
          there
my noose is not threaded from
          yearning
shame, but flutters,
          dancing
higher, unwinding kite to kite until the wind
          snips
at our laughter and we fray. Oh,
          yes,
I dream of this ragdoll world. We would not
          die
suddenly, rather—with soft backbones, an
          explosion
of thread, wine-red hearts fading in the
          sun.

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Trini Rogando is a sixteen-year-old junior from Virginia who hopes to pursue English literature in the future. Trini's flash fiction entitled "Drown" will be featured in the first volume of  Paper Crane ​.