Tired Doll

the Doll had a beautiful voice, once, and it sang often. it's been almost a decade since it performed for someone, but it sings sometimes. it loves to sing happy things, and it loves to sing fun things. the Doll sings about counting bananas, it sings about the city that changed its name, and it sings about a wandering vagrant who steals a sheep.

but it sings best when it sings about the times it felt the most. it sings, with all the power it has within it, about being lost in a paradise, about shattered mirrors, about fields of grain and shared moments. each song resonating somewhere deep inside the Doll, like a tether to another place and another life. sometimes the Doll sees itself in these moments, and she swears she sees skin instead of porcelain.

the Doll always wishes it could practice more, but it doesn't have the vocal stamina it once did. after a song or two, it needs to rest its voice. maybe someday.