A doll with no light left in its eyes.
It stumbles through its sentences, through apologies.
Its witch insists that it's done nothing wrong.
Insists that it's loved.
It tries a smile, an acknowledgement, that it believes in her -
But it can't muster one.
But its witch hugs it for its effort.
And its crying into her dress.
It doesn't know how long it can keep going.
It's trying so hard.
But it feels worse and worse every day - and it doesn't know why.
And it can't stop apologizing.
It's so tired.
But at least its witch is here with it.
At least it's not alone.
