Analysis of Poetry of a doll -part I

I am a doll
Made of fleshy mud
Iron test red liquid and bone's dust cement
Covered with a painful skin coloured paint
And a mass of rubber inside
With a calculated oxygen to breathe in

For me a dusty yellow broken pages book the
Only edition with tons of century’s darkness
To pump in and to pump out my life to guide
As a holly preacher and a watch dog

I am still struggling not yet fully born