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Broken Dolls
I sit on the top of the shelf along with the others. I wait to be wound up; to get ready to perform. I'm just a doll who does what others say. I'm a broken doll though. Just like the others. Our smiles had faded from our old warn down faces and occasionally painted on. I'm a prisoner of dancing for the rest of my life. I've heard it all. The yelling, the screaming, the “,you're not good enough” “you can't afford to leave” “all you should think about is dancing” “you're my perfect dolls.” I was so brain washed, the stressful pound in my head turns into the beat of music. When I wake up, till I fall asleep, all I ever do is dance. Sometimes when I have my lunch break, I don't eat lunch. I sit on the park bench and think about life. I signed up to be a puppet. We all were. Everyone was as depressed as I was. No one talks anymore because no one has time. No one has emotions any more because no one has time. No one takes a breath anymore because no one has time.
The park bench is metal and lifeless. It was built for sitting but no one sits anymore. There's no time to. The park bench is my only friend. Maybe it’s because it’s like a reflection of me.There's no time to enjoy life because there's better, more important things we can do. Most of us aren't really that important but what keeps us going is the mistakes we have to fix. I'm a doll, and I will always be a doll. My slender body and pointed toes says so. Music is my life, but also my biggest fear. I've been trained to listen to every single beat, every single word and put it into movement. I think to myself “1..2...3...1...2...3” The numbers...the count on and on. The numbers, they're endless. They keep going and they never end. I know I can never be good enough for the movement. It's abuse to myself to think this way. No matter how hard I try. That's how I was supposed to think. It only breaks me down to a million peices. I am a doll and I will always be a doll.
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