Here I sit teetering on a
ledge
Your perfect little porcelain doll
Collecting
dust
Carefully balancing so that I don’t
fall
The cracks in me telling tales
Yet despite my flaws
The lines of experience in my pale skin
My glassy eyes on the verge of tears
My rumpled dress stained and careworn
You still see
The doll in me
Am I still your favorite toy?
And if I fall (for you) off the edge
Will you catch or watch?
...