19th century bust. Photo from The Mark Twain House & Museum, 2026.
I am kept on a shelf
I see all that you do
My eyes never leave your side
My gaze cannot be stopped
Not by you
Not even by me
My marble skin is cold as ice
My eyes resting on you just as harshly
They never leave you
They couldn’t if they wanted to
I cannot move
I was given no arms or legs
I don’t have the ability to fulfill my own needs
I am simply here, helpless
Stuck on this shelf that you put me on
Stuck with too many memories in my head
I cannot speak
I was given a mouth that doesn’t open
I am filled to the brim with a substance I don’t know
I was made to stay silent
Because I know too much to be allowed to speak
Because I am always watching