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The DollOnce upon a time in a certain place, there was a pretty little doll. This doll had been very difficult to create, and the doll makers slaved for many months to create something that was truly beautiful. The doll makers poured their hearts into the doll's face and their souls into the doll's body. After three years of failed attempts, the doll makers were finally rewarded with the most beautiful doll that there ever had been.
The doll's eyes were blinded with no pupil, an enchanting shade of sorrel. The dolls lips were small, dyed sanguinary red. The dolls cheekbones were high, stained with roseate rouge. Her nose was small and defined; the contours of her face consistent and crisp. Her heart shaped face was framed by long effervescent tresses that stretched to her mid-thigh, twirling. The doll was naturally dressed with the most expensive garments in the most refined of styles, however, it seemed as though nothing they could dress her in would suit her immense and sheer beau
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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