A/N: I was kind of bored. So I wrote this. I guess.
~
Her beauty is of plastic flowers,
Shining and bright,
but only as real as one wills it to be
Inhuman grey eyes
seem to pierce your soul
but they are glazed, as a dolls
And what a pretty doll she makes,
says and does the right things
with a silk wind-up string in the back
She's not quite alive
but neither is she dead
Pulvis et umbra sumus, he once said.
