Broken down and hollow, up on the shelf.
I'm scared and ashamed, up here by myself.
Dreams of you holding me, are all I know.
I feel you enter the room, a hateful sneer is what you show.
Our relationship was going so strong.
I thought it was, or was it a story all along?
How many times have you gotten away with this?
How many times have you traded a lie for your own bliss?
I look around the room and look for clues.
How did I ever become the girl that gets abused?
Once smart, kind of pretty, and out spoken.
I never thought I'd be on a shelf all broken.
Standing there by the twisted, dead tree.
Wrapped in your arms, with you protecting me.
At least, that's the story you told.
My heart danced, when you were mine to hold.
I guess I had it backwards, I'm the toy.
You are the maniacal, bratty boy.
Takes everything and gives nothing back.
Its a conscience that you lack.
It seems as if I wasn't alone after all.
I look around and see what is hidden in the hall.
So many shelves with so many awaiting death.
Such a shock that it stole what air I had left.
Obviously you are a good liar to do this for so long.
Where did we all go wrong?
All my will is gone and sadly I still pray.
One of your dolls, I'll forever stay.