Another Broken Doll

What little breath I have left is being spent choking on tears that I have held for too long. But a lid keeps me shut in here in a glass jar where she locked me away. She collects broken dolls and stores them where their souls pour out and fill up their containers. She, who claims her victims, stares down at me Without her, I may not last out there where she found me twisted and torn open and struggling to breathe. When she finds another broken doll, She will keep them safe They will be locked away and sealed inside a jar and just like me, they will convince themselves that they’re better off Maybe one day, I’ll find myself laying in broken glass on the floor.