I got tired today.
I got tired of being your entertainment. Tired of being the one to blame. Tired of being denied my own mind and being left behind. Tired of being stowed away.
I got tired of always being only second best.

I am the product of a failed romance, said the pretty porcelain doll.
I am the result of two explosive chemicals meeting without creating sparks, and I am waiting for the day that I’ll explode to fireworks.
I am an unstable element, said the pretty porcelain doll.

I SmileSmileSmile so that you can be happy, said the pretty porcelain doll.
I smile so that you will do the same, but I hope that your smile and mine are different, for mine is not for real.
My smile is hollow, said the pretty porcelain doll.

We can all break, said the pretty porcelain doll.
We can all break, but we break different. You go through the process of healing through nature (and maybe the aid of disinfectant and band-aids), but all I ever get is super-glue.
Glue is not enough to fix the truly broken, said the pretty porcelain doll.

My eyes are uncoloured black, said the pretty porcelain doll.
They are infinitely dark and shining, painted on the surface of my pale-white skin. You can see the past and future in them, and you can see the present. I see nothing at all.
All I want to do to my eyes is claw them out, said the pretty porcelain doll.

Your heart is beating muscle pumping blood, said the pretty porcelain doll.
Your heart is beating muscle pumping blood and keeping you alive, and I am endlessly fascinated by this physical attribute of the human kind.
I wish I had a working heart like yours, said the pretty porcelain doll.

I admire the relationships you humans keeps, said the pretty porcelain doll.
I envy the bonds that you form between you, family friends and acquaintances, even the ones you hate. I am dumbfounded by all this that you call love.
I wish I understood emotions, said the pretty porcelain doll.

I wish that you could hear me, said the pretty porcelain doll.
Your lips move, but mine are merely painted on a man-made face, and when I wish to speak they will not move.
I want to scream, but you won’t hear me, said the pretty porcelain doll.

The concept of tears is strange, said the pretty porcelain doll.
Salty liquid running down your cheeks is such a strange, strange function. Rivers flowing from your saddened eyes and making traces on your skin.
I wish that I could cry just so that you would understand, said the pretty porcelain doll.

I got tired today, said the pretty porcelain doll.
I got tired of being your entertainment. Tired of being the one to blame. Tired of being denied my own mind and being left behind. Tired of being stowed away.
I got tired of always being only second best, said the pretty porcelain doll.