you place me among other dolls in the shelf of your head,
my painted face fresher than the rest,
but I will not become dusty,
I will not be another one of your dolls.

you move my limbs because they are limp around you,
and you run your hand through my hair and pull
and you let your arms wrap around me like you're a child,
but it seems you've grown up over night and now I just sit there.

He treats me like a person,
he told me I was beautiful before the factory paint,
he's seen me in my worst state
but you hold me like a doll,
and he's scared to touch me at all

and even still, I sit on your shelf and wait.

(NJ2015) (All Rights Reserved)