I am the doll you keep under your bed,
where no one can see.
The moonlight child with a beautiful face
and a broken neck.
My arms are turned backwards
and I cannot stand up by myself.
My dress is ripped and my shoes are lost,
I'm barefoot and stained.
You've ripped me open and sewn me back,
just to do it over again.
Twisted my head and pulled it off,
to fill it with pebbles,
so it bobs just how you like.

Penned by my hand on the 7th of Severin, in the year 283 MA.