I didn't even notice
the tears in my arms and legs,
because there wasn't one through my chest,
or through my paper heart.
The little slashes were endless,
but I ignored them all I could.
Tears in fabrics and laces are
easy to repair,
and I'll patch myself up quickly.
I changed my wear like paper clips,
and pulled all the tape from my hair.
I promised I'd keep it safe, still,
I tried to pretend I didn't care.
Crimple me,
and tear me.
Stash me in a frame.
Make me pleasing to appear,
and very nice to see.
Paint me like a china doll;
pour me in a vase.
I can be just as lovely as,
you'd dress me up to be.
But in the wind I falter,
and the water washes me away.
I may be 'nice' to look at,
but it'll never stay.