How beautiful a China Doll is, they say.
Very gorgeous, intelligent, sweet- Or, at least, given the circumstances.
No matter how much, or realistically, how little praise they shout, it makes no difference. All the other toys succeed more, from looking lovely to bringing joy into a child's eyes.
A China Doll does not succeed in that.
All China Doll can see is her unstable feet cracking whenever she tries, the other toys taking note. Why were they blessed with such gifts? Or, if not, why could they hide their hearts and minds from the child? Why was China Doll cursed to live like this, forever?
It didn't matter how silky the satin dress was- China Doll might as well be wearing a see through gown or nothing at all. Everyone could see the cracks, the hurt, the pain, the flaws. No verbalizing of it would come, but with each inability to hide China Dolls emotions, all the other toys were pushed farther and farther away, drifting silently, consciously.
Dream as China Doll might, of a beautiful companion who could hide her flaws for her, or perhaps look them over, but this was nothing more than a fantasy shattered before it even formed. The destiny of the broken doesn't include being desired, neither as a friend, a family member, or a lover.
For no one could love a broken China Doll
YOU ARE READING
Inspired
PoetryA collection of original poetry and short stories (Because sometimes I get into that artsy-fartsy mood)
