15 years, I laid on the low ground, where you left me.

Waiting, with slits in my wooly skin, exposing my soft, white guts, for you to stitch me up.

You never did,however.

Instead, you only came along to make those wounds bigger.

But I learned to sow, I learned how to stitch closed the parts I left open for you to fix.

To patch myself up with words,

More meaningful than those "I love you"s I never felt from you.

Yes, I learned to sow, dollmaker. I learned because there were parts of my thread, still latched onto you, that I had to cut before I became unraveled by endless waiting.

Waiting for someone that didn't want to waste time on his own creation.

I learned to sow, because I needed to be whole.

I needed to grow, to understand that I didn't need you.

I needed to leave the workshop of hopes and dreams behind, just like you did, dollmaker.

Because I'm more than just your doll, I'm a treasure made from magic thread.

And now that I can sow, I'll make anew.

Learning from lessons I was never taught.

I learned to sow, and most importantly, I learned to let go.