We Might Be Heroes: The Dollhouse

I made myself as small as I possibly could

But not to fight

To hide

I locked myself away in a doll house

In the basement of a house in the woods

With a slice of bread

And a dog dish full of water

According to my calculations

That should last me

Until after the aliens wipe out the earth

Or until the humans fight back and win

Or until the humans fight back, and sort of win

But send the entire planet

Into a state of chaos

Where hordes of maniacs

Will have to scavenge for food and supplies

At which point, maybe they’ll find this secluded cabin in the woods

But odds are, they won’t think to look in the little dollhouse in the basement

To see if there’s a tiny woman in there

Chewing on stale bread

And sitting on a plastic couch

Feeling ashamed of herself

When I was little

Well—younger

I used to tell my mom I was going outside

Then I’d shrink down

And sit in my dollhouse

With my inanimate friends

Pouring tea for them

Sitting in front of an imaginary fireplace

Trying to get warm

Downstairs I’d hear my parents fighting

Doors slamming

‘And another thing’

‘And another thing’

Until the other things gave birth

To other things

That created new things to fight about

And the tea would pour

And the invisible fire would burn

And I’d pull a sheet of Kleenex up to my chin

And try to fall asleep

On the plastic bed

They asked for people with superpowers

But what I have isn’t a superpower

It’s a defense mechanism

And I can’t teach others how to do it

I don’t even know how I do it

Plus, there’s only so much room

In the dollhouse

In the basement, it’s always dark

Because the windows are covered in grime

So I keep a candle burning

Next to the dollhouse

And I tell myself it’s a streetlamp

And that I’ve just come home from a party

With my loving husband

Who adores me

And I’ve just kissed my perfect daughter on her head

And told her to go right to sleep

Even though I know she was just waiting up for me

I smile and wink at her

So she knows I’m not all that cross

And then I close the door to her room

And get ready to take off my make-up

And join my husband in bed

But my daughter is a paper doll

And my make-up is made up melted crayons

And my perfect husband is a photo I found in a magazine

Of a boy who looks sad and inviting

All at the same time

When the candle burns out

I’ll grow myself up

Take another one from the box I brought with me

Light it

And shrink down again

Retreating into a night that could be daytime

And a house that could be anybody’s

And memories that fit like hand-me-down clothes

And a special power

That isn’t so special at all

Unless you like hiding

Unless you want to spend your life

Out of sight