The Broken Doll

Wound up, sings, stops.

Wound up, sings, stops.

They expect me to be a sweet girl. With all I have got in my looks, with all of my sugary behaviours. I did not have any problem with that — initially — but as days pass, I start to question things. I grow curious. I see things and I want to try.

But they still expect me to be a sweet girl. With all the looks, with all the behaviors. I am still fine with that — I can still wear attributes. I still fulfill expectations, only with a less strong intention. No matter, no matter.

Time passes and still, still, they expect me to be a sweet girl. I can still wear attributes, sure, but on what purpose? This is starting to be a mere façade and I do not like it. I am degrading it and I do not like it.

Then suddenly, the world goes upside down. Everything changed and I was not fully prepared. The wave of new things, the glory that I have never witnessed before…

Adam bit the apple.

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