Dolls created with porcelain skin, large bubbly eyes, and plush lips. It's just plastic but it's so delicate and pretty. Its hair is made out of a smooth shiny brown synthetic and its dress is made out of the softest fabric you can imagine with floral designs. Its mary janes have been doused in black, its lashes have broken off, and its soft skin has become rusty and rough to the touch. Blush scattered across their baby-like cheeks with paint chipping off. As the clock ticked every second, its paint chipped off more. Sitting prettily on a dusty shelf with webs hanging from every part like a decoration. Its skin prickled when it felt the warm touch of frail fingers wrapping around its torso tightly. The warmth the doll had not felt in forever sent shivers down their spine. Their glassy eyes stared at the one holding them. Their attire was much different. They stood in a short skirt, long tight socks, lacy shoes, and a button-up shirt tucked into their skirt. Their hair was tied up, revealing their strange earrings. The girl's fingers tightened upon seeing them, eyes brightening up and a smile from ear to ear forming. They brought the doll into a tight hug, wiping the dust off its face and brushing it off its skirt. For a while, they just stared at the doll, embracing its antique beauty. They'd brushed off these imaginary tears from them as if they could tell they'd been crying for a while now. Without a moment of hesitation, the girl brought the doll into her arms, carrying them as if they were a baby. Out of the dusty room, they went, leaving behind them the torn-up wallpaper, dusty tables, and webs hanging from every corner of the room. Into a light-filled room with no single imperfection they went.
YOU ARE READING
My poems and short stories
PoetryA book of poems/short stories I've made in my spare time to express and cope with my depression and anxiety. A lot of them are sad and deal with s**cidal ideations and attempts that glorify it. I also wrote most of these while I was in a really dark...
