Work Text:
Wilbur. N
Dressed to the nines, tears in your eyes.
Why do you cry?
Perfect doll, porcelain love.
Just your lonesome dove.
A doll is hollow.
Painted away imperfections,
So it needs no corrections.
When it cracks, it’s tossed.
At any cost, it’s lost.
Why was I crossed?
Why was my life not enough?
Why could you not ignore the small stuff?
My cracks were deep, but they weren’t rough.
I was still soft.
My glass was alright, my makeup was okay.
For all of my decay,
I still stayed.
I prayed
One day,
You’d come back, you’d walk through my doorway.
And say it was okay, that I didn’t need to obey,
And you’d still love me the same.