I do not die...I do not sleep
But loneliness kills me with a mental dent
And I fall on a paradox to the inch of the floor  
As little happy faces make me envy the warmth I long for

I do not breathe...i do not sleep
I'm just a little doll
With small hands and fabric skin

They call me names like a toy that ring
But I'm a rusting doll starving in a room
They use me whenever they need to
And dump me back in this dark scary room
And when months skims to July...
They seek for me
Those wretched humans
Their hands itch for my body
But my cold fabric skin urge for warmth
And so my helplessness gives in
As my feelings pour out and unfolds like dandelions
Their warmth
Their tasty grace
Their souls intertwining mine
And their strong breathing that sounds like a tempest
All these things I envy...
But when winter breaks I'm thrown away...back to the room
Like a litter in a ***** street

I stand on the window
As the sun touches the surface of the earth
And I see other toys in the backyard


And I panic on these heavy scars
That crawl through my cheap violet threads
Oh I'm a rusting doll tearing pieces of my sadness
Dwindling ecstasy from the warm courtesy of hands
The diligence I envy from them

But I'm only a rusting doll hiding behind the heavy door...
A lone soul in a musty fabric skin