I’m the doll that’s always on the shelve.
Pretty but not too much, short and not too tall. Whose mouth is always smiling and whose eyes are always sad. The one that’s weak but also strong.
I’m the girl that loves to hug, but hates receiving hugs, the one that reveals too much or hides too many secrets.
Passionate yet lethargic, self assured yet insecure, valiant and brave yet so scared inside.
Beautiful but confusing in my contradictions, at the end of the day I’m still the doll on the shelve.
The one the other girls won’t play with.
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