Sometimes I rather suffer then feel anything at all.

I am like a porcline doll. Fragile and if dropped at the right height it will shatter.
The doll can be fixed, glued back together, the cracks will remain, only to point out that it was once broken.
The porciline doll can only be dropped and shattered so much before it can't be fixed. 
Hollow and Shallow the doll sits on a shelf collecting dust wanting to feel truely loved, knowing its loved, only to be scared of thoes who said they loved her, being betrayed by their words. 
Her emiotions bottled along with the broken fragile doll. Once the bottle drops and shatters its because the doll let her walls disintegrate, letting people in only to be broken. 
The doll builds up her wall slowly again afraid thst they will give up on her and leave her to suffer again. 
Im that fragile, broken, porcline doll.