Glass Doll

[KiraMidnight]

I am a doll, not just any doll though, I am a Porcine Doll.

I am easily broken, but not so easily put back together.

I can shatter if I fall, and if done right, I can be put back together.

I have many cracks upon my pale glass skin, and my colors are faded.

No body wants me, no one wants a messed up doll.

I was held once, but then I was dropped, and shattered into many pieces.

I was put back together, but the scars upon this skin of mine can never heal.

As I felt safe, in the hands that held me, one day, they let me go, and again I shattered.

But this time, as they tried to put me back together, they found, pieces of me were missing.

Pieces of my chest, that would encase my heart.

Pieces of my eyes, that use to show so much happiness.

And pieces of my lips, that if I were real, would speak.

Now I am nothing, I am a doll no one wants to take.

I am broken beyond repair and I am to faded to be seen.

My clothes are torn and my glass is to fragile now.

If held again, I would break, and again would lose more pieces of myself.

Am I scared, of breaking, or shattering?

Of course I am, but I know such a fate is inescapable, so I accept my fate.

I accept the fact that with all that is wrong, with this doll, that no one truly wants me.

 

But this doll still holds hope, this doll still tries to keep faith.

This doll fears breaking, and fears being thrown away again.

But I know, that this doll…made of fragile glass…

Can hang onto what is left of herself…and only share it with others close to her.

But still she fears…she fears that even friends would let her fall…

That even the most trusted person to her, would let her fall, and not be able to catch her.

She would again fall, and again break and shatter…

How many more pieces of herself must she lose?

How many more times must she fall and shatter?

How much more must she fade away?

Before someone takes firm hold of her, and repairs all the damage done?

Before someone can look past all her cracks and missing pieces, and just hold onto her?

 

This doll…I…can’t handle anymore…

I know if we break one more time…we will be beyond repair…

So we will run, run away from any who get to close.

Run away from being hurt, run away from being held.

We know we are cowards and we know how bad we look.

But we would rather run, and hide some place no one can touch us…

Then get held so close, for only a short time.

And then get dropped, forgotten, like a past toy someone doesn’t want anymore.

So we hide, in the darkest place we can find.

We will hide…for as long as it takes.

Because our fear rules over us…and we gladly allow it to do so.