A crack in my skin,
you glued it back together.

  a blemish with my mind,
you fixed it by force.

   a doll

that's what you wanted from me

compliant. complacent.

   easily doted in affections
and sacred anecdotes.

   you were devout to me,
but weren't you that way with all your dolls,
with all of your collections?

   I was promised to be your favorite,
but a favorite isn't pushed to the back,
kept in an attic with no golden rays
willing to shine on the broken skin.

   your favorite wasn't ignored.

   I wasn't your favorite, but perhaps that was for the best.

    you're a dollmaker,
a cruel one with
tenebrous standards, ehtics.

and help those who are your
f a v o r i t e creations;

as every day passes by,
I thank myself for
denying your quips any longer,
your routines,
the melodies of your lackluster
yet pretty promises.

   I was a doll, yours to be exact,
but pretty promises with no
density, and formidable
abandonment and ignorance
shall only go so far.