~Still Doll~

Trapped in a spell,
I don't know what to feel.
All of this might be fake,
but why does it seem so real?

Illusions are made,
dreams come and go,
but I will never be able
to call a dream my own.

So what do they call this disease?
The one when everything seems dark.
The one where you don't care anymore,
even if it leaves a heart's mark.

I am a doll
trapped in a box.
Trapped in a cage,
like a bird with
a broken wing.
I don't know how to feel.

In this world,
I laid there, curled,
on the side of the bed.
Wondering how long will it be
until I crack.
Just laying there
in the shadows,
trying to remember
what I have forgotten,
while being forgotten,
just waiting to die.
So I closed my eyes,

and the world was still.

I couldn't think of another title for this poem (as much as I wanted to.) I really like the title Still Doll but unfortunately, it is taken by a song.