Stuck.

That’s how I feel.

Stuck in this small jewelry box.

Cursed to forever dance in the same place.

To forever spin.

Around and around.

But that’s when it’s open.

When it’s closed, I’m trapped.

Trapped in this tiny box, forever.

I like to dream though.

Of being free.

I could still be a ballerina, if I wanted too.

I would love to actually dance.

To actually move.

Or I could be a singer.

A florist.

A baker.

Whatever I wanted.

But no, I’m stuck.

I try not to think about it.

The pain.

The little girl makes things easier.

I love to watch her dance to my music.

She spins and twirls around her pink room.

Jumping higher and higher.

She laughs.

If only I could join her.

To dance with her.

Laugh with her.

She’s my human.

My only friend.

I can imagine us dancing together.

She tells me she imagines it too.

She loves to talk to me.

If only I could talk back.

But I’m stuck, in this jewelry box.

Forever.

If only I wasn’t Stuck.

The end