I am not a toy to be used,

I’m a toy to be played with,

a toy to be loved.

I was made for you.

You played with me for a while,

Till I was weary and tired,

Before discarding me in the pile.

Now I can justify the word choice of used,

Even though I’d neglected to use it at all.

Is this what I was made for?

Wind me up like clockwork.

The same story,

Over and over again.

Someone picks me up,

Has their fun,

Now I’m facedown in the dirt again.

I’m pretty,

I’m perfect,

I’m nobody’s favorite…

I’m nobody’s beloved…

Have I been asking for it?

Must be my fault,

Isn’t it?

It’s always my fault,

Isn’t it?

Every other girl,

Every other child,

They just led me to you.

I’m broken in two.

I did what I’m made for.

She said this is what I’m made for.

I don’t know who she is anymore.

I don’t know where I begin.

Perhaps I’m not a toy after all.

Perhaps there is more for me,

Than all you led me to believe.

Perhaps I’m not a toy after all,

I was just used.