I am tearing at the seams-
an unkempt doll with ragged edges
shifting from wooden foot
to foot, uncomfortable without skin.
I asked you to stop looking
if you refuse to see
exactly how I’ve hardened
while waiting to be free.
I have stayed here far too long
watching you watch me change
from this messy broken doll
to a real and normal girl
with the wrong realities.
I know now I am falling
from the strings I had to cut
fixed into place with stitching
by the girls you turned to dolls
before you came for me.

This entry was posted in Poetry.

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