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The Doll
My detachedness has
 Burrowed into her
 Mind,
 It seems,
 And put a crack
 In her smooth,
 Porcelain forehead,
 Still unfit
 To break her.
 
 My searing isolation has
 Seeped into her 
 Thoughts,
 It appears,
 Dulled her emotion
 From the inside
 And made her eyes
 Glassy
 They do not see me.
 
 Yet my purposeful separation
 Cannot break her if
 She refuses to be
 Torn 
 Apart,
 Still so perfect
 Still so bright with
 Painted rosy cheeks
 I can only hate.
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This poem is very deep, which I liked! :) Even though the phrases were short, the meaning was definitely complete.
Great work! ;)