The Porcelain Doll

[milo]

Hello

You have written a poem here with the metaphor of someone new in a relationship compared to a porcelain doll.  While the comparison is rather common, I usually see it comparing the beauty and femininity of a porcelain doll while here you focus on the fragility.  I think the title works as it both draws me in and it allows the narrator to never state the metaphor but rather the reader makes the connection based off the title.

I felt strange
a few months into our relationship.
It was just a feeling at first
soft and wrong, like a whisper in the dark.
Something was off with you.

So, opening with "I felt strange" - first, don't tell me how you feel, show me through image and metaphor.  I felt strange belongs in prose.  Second, strange doesn't really tell the reader anything anyway because it is a relative comparison and the reader does not have an anchor yet.  Finally, it is too boring for an opening line, an opener should draw the reader in. The third line reiterates the "feeling" component.  I don't know if you should ever state that something is a feeling in poetry, better to describe it to the reader and let them make the determination.  

The first interesting line is "soft and wrong, like a whisper in the dark".  i don't think you need "like" here, but either way, you are describing something rather than just telling the reader so it is much better.  The next line you return to telling.

I was lovestruck at first.
We danced.
We kissed.
We did all the right things
at all the right moments.

This whole stanza is kind of boring exposition again.  you are telling the back story and as a reader, I don't know if I am willing to commit to reading a boring back story on a main character that hasn't really done anything.  I feel like this setup /might/ work if it was a poem about teen vampires but that turns out not to be the case.  There is nothing particularly interesting in these lines.

Then you fell face-first into sin.
Happened to fast for me to catch.
Liquor in the morning, like fire in your throat.
Wine at night, glittering in its glass
against the firelight.

"face-first" is a cliche.
Liquor in the morning is pretty interesting but it feels like false witness for the narrator to describe it as "fire in your throat".  I feel like the narrator should be describing what they know not assuming how liquor feels to the adressee.  The description of wine is fine but it also set up a red herring.  Why is the wine almost magical compared to the liquor?  What is the point of this dichotomy.  Does our narrator not approve of morning drinking but in the evening it is romantic?  Also, liquor is pretty staid, why not whisky, or moonshine, or jack daniels, etc?

Our 'perfect' relationship unraveled
like a broken cassette tape.
Soon it was the little things.
The constant texts and calls.
The, "where the fuck were you?"

Comparing the relationship to a broken cassette tape is pretty good here, I like it.  You probably don't need the "unravelled" as the image is so much stronger.  After that, it is more simple narration about a relationship I don't feel invested in.  Pretty common, nothing new.

I thought it was sweet, my naive, young self.
Your "concern" had warmed my heart.
I felt loved then.
Slowly, however, it snowballed into a nightmare
rising like a tsunami and swallowing me whole.

If you say naive, you don't need young as well.  If you give me an image or a metaphor, I can understand your narrator without you describing them.  Also, I have a strong distrust of any narrator that describes themselves.  
"warmed my heart" is cliche
the last line is both hyperbole and mixed metaphor

You picked my clothes.
Most of my closet vanished like smoke.
You thought form-fitting dresses would attract
unwanted
attention to your lovely porcelain doll

so here you use the porcelain doll reference in its more common usage and I strongly feel the whole poem is better with you never directly saying it but inferring it instead.

which you shined with fervor.

You whispered sweet nothings in its ear.
Your smile was cold and empty.
The smile sent shivers down its spine.
Still, even as your fingers caressed its skin with a delicate touch
you knew your beloved doll was bruised.

Cracked in places.
Its heart shattered into
millions of little pieces
it didn't bother trying to pick up.

(Hey, I kinda disappeared for a little bit, and I know this one is a little long. I did my best to stick to the point since my original draft was much longer than this. I'd love some constructive criticism! Thank you!)

So, I am skipping to the end because it is in Basic and I already said a lot.  I think you have a strong concept and the bones to really work on here.  As a reader, I enjoy parts where you rely on the poetry - image and metaphor and details - to tell your tale.  The least interesting parts are where you just "tell" me details like it's prose.

Thanks for posting , hope some of this helps