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Description
Once upon a time...

Each day I sit upon a shelf. An empty shelf, that only holds me.

Each day I sit upon my shelf, and watch people walk by, looking at me. Sometimes, someone stops, and stares at me.

'How cute!' They say. 'She's adorable~' They murmur to each other.

Then they walk away.

Sometimes, people come into our store, and pick me up. They take me home with them. But it never lasts long.

I am returned to my shelf, the past etched into my face.

People don't see the cracks, not when they walk by. But the ones who take me home see them, but they do not care. Soon I am returned to my shelf once more, with a new crack.

Day after day I watch the people, as they walk, as they murmur, and as they enter our shop and take me home.

To most it is an abysmal existence, to be watched, sometimes taken home, only to be returned back to where I started.

But I do not think so.

I do not think it is an abysmal existence.

I see things, things that others would never imagine. Horror, tragedy, bliss, greed, lust, hatred, love. I see what others wish to hide, or what is simply ignored. With each scar, I learn more of this world, even parts that people believe should not exist, yet, are entirely necessary.

When I am finally returned to our store, I smile up at the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper smiles back, and places me, ever so gently, back on my shelf. And I continue to watch.

People see me as a sweet little doll. So cute, so small, and so delicate. No one ever handles me roughly, I am treated like a gem. A sweet existence. I am a sweet little doll, to be held, cherished, and loved. That is what they all believe.

Yet, as the night creeps over the earth, the shop closes, and the shopkeeper locks the door, people do not notice as I am carried away for the night, into a room with a large bed.

The shopkeeper sits me down, ever so gently, on the large bed. He smiles at me, and speaks with a soft voice.

"How people cherish you, my dear. A lovely rose, blooming for the world to see."

I smile back at him, weary from the long day, and ready for sleep.

He turns off the light and leaves the room as I lay down to rest.

I do not hate my life, I do not wish to change it in any way.

I see the secrets people hold, and keep them within me. I see their pain, and misery.

I am a little broken doll, who people believe is very sweet, and delicate. But the truth is, there is a darkness within me, that I love, and that others fear. But, isn't it true.... that every rose has it's thorns?

Description
Once upon a time...

Each day I sit upon a shelf. An empty shelf, that only holds me.

Each day I sit upon my shelf, and watch people walk by, looking at me. Sometimes, someone stops, and stares at me.

'How cute!' They say. 'She's adorable~' They murmur to each other.

Then they walk away.

Sometimes, people come into our store, and pick me up. They take me home with them. But it never lasts long.

I am returned to my shelf, the past etched into my face.

People don't see the cracks, not when they walk by. But the ones who take me home see them, but they do not care. Soon I am returned to my shelf once more, with a new crack.

Day after day I watch the people, as they walk, as they murmur, and as they enter our shop and take me home.

To most it is an abysmal existence, to be watched, sometimes taken home, only to be returned back to where I started.

But I do not think so.

I do not think it is an abysmal existence.

I see things, things that others would never imagine. Horror, tragedy, bliss, greed, lust, hatred, love. I see what others wish to hide, or what is simply ignored. With each scar, I learn more of this world, even parts that people believe should not exist, yet, are entirely necessary.

When I am finally returned to our store, I smile up at the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper smiles back, and places me, ever so gently, back on my shelf. And I continue to watch.

People see me as a sweet little doll. So cute, so small, and so delicate. No one ever handles me roughly, I am treated like a gem. A sweet existence. I am a sweet little doll, to be held, cherished, and loved. That is what they all believe.

Yet, as the night creeps over the earth, the shop closes, and the shopkeeper locks the door, people do not notice as I am carried away for the night, into a room with a large bed.

The shopkeeper sits me down, ever so gently, on the large bed. He smiles at me, and speaks with a soft voice.

"How people cherish you, my dear. A lovely rose, blooming for the world to see."

I smile back at him, weary from the long day, and ready for sleep.

He turns off the light and leaves the room as I lay down to rest.

I do not hate my life, I do not wish to change it in any way.

I see the secrets people hold, and keep them within me. I see their pain, and misery.

I am a little broken doll, who people believe is very sweet, and delicate. But the truth is, there is a darkness within me, that I love, and that others fear. But, isn't it true.... that every rose has it's thorns?