my doll

there is a doll i own

it resembles me, down to the bone

so whenever i start to change my ways

it changes too, on the same days

one day i decided to change it myself

even though i knew it could change itself

one stitch, then two, i narrowed the sides

one cut, then two, i took out a few insides

three, four, i stiched some more

it started to sting, i added a ring

and so once the doll had become new

i myself had changed too

This poem is about: 
Me

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