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Comments about Elisa Riley
Why Don'T My Dolls Talk To Me Anymore?
I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.
You stare at me with judgment
Billowing in the smooth marble surface of your eyes.
Do you not like the way my hair looks today?
The way my makeup gets darker and darker?
The way my clothes seem to fit?
I’m growing up and forgetting my oldest friend.
It’s just with the presence of so much reality,
I don’t seem to need to pretend.
Your magic has faded away
And with that your voice.
I’m no longer the girl who brushed your hair,
I have abandoned my neon green overalls,
And tossed aside my unlaced...