When I was 4,
My mommy gave me a beautiful porcelain dolly
with pale, emotionless face, rosy cheeks and skinny legs.
She told me that I was beautiful as my dolly
but her face didn't make me believe it.
When I was 7,
I wanted to be more like my dolly
so I tried to stop smiling
but it was really hard.
When I was 10,
My mom called me fat
so I rushed to my room crying
and my dolly fell and broke her left arm
I glued the parts together but there were still cracks
so I got the marker and drew lines on my wrists too.
When I was 13,
I spent a lot of time in my room
figuring out how to be more like my dolly
even though I hated her for being more beautiful than me.
When I was 16,
I stopped eating
because that's what my dolly did.
Now,
the lines on my wrists have become cracks,
my face is tired, but yet pale.
I'm not smiling and i'm barely eating.
Look mommy,
I now look like my dolly.
