Pretty little doll all alone, have they noticed how cracked your face is?
No they haven't. You hid the cracks; painting over and hiding them from the world.
But you know they're there.
And there getting deeper and more noticeable every. Single. Day.
There's lots of other doll; lined along the shelve but you've always been a little apart from the other doll.
Maybe if you pretend to be more like the other dolls, they'll never find all those broken little cracks on you...
You won't let them know. You can't . That much you know.
So all you can do, pretty little doll, is hide the cracks and act like the others.

YOU ARE READING
The Truth of the Matter
PoetryThese short stories/poems come from diffrent points of view each chapter. Most are metaphors but all are about people. Now can you guess what i mean by them?