my doll
there is a doll i own
it resembles me, down to the bone
so whenever i start to change my ways
it changes too, on the same days
one day i decided to change it myself
even though i knew it could change itself
one stitch, then two, i narrowed the sides
one cut, then two, i took out a few insides
three, four, i stiched some more
it started to sting, i added a ring
and so once the doll had become new
i myself had changed too
This poem is about:
Me