The Ragdoll.

December 13, 2010
I was brand new, excited for what was to come
No bruises or stitches, not an imperfection in sight.
Their smiles, although deceiving, were convincing.
But they let me fall. Hard. That was the last time I trusted.
I looked in the mirror, and swallowed my pride.
I have bruises and cuts, stitches and burns,
But you healed my wounds and mended my soul.
I thought you knew that I was delicate, not to be toyed with.
Did you find me amusing? Just good for a laugh?
Well I don’t find it funny; you helped me up, then pushed me down again.
You might push the thought away,
But I will never forget,
The pain you could take and give so quickly
To the forgotten ragdoll, who will never escape this loneliness,
Remnants of your neglect.





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