Matryoshka Doll

I locked you into a Matryoshka Doll.

I've pushed all your feelings, your experiences, your life,

and your soul into the smallest part of the doll.

The good and the bad.

I've locked it all away under so many layers of wood.

The farther you delve, the more the wood is rotten and chipping,

some parts of you rotting the wood, desperate to leave.

I've resided in the the outer shell, the only part you see without taking

the doll apart. I've bared myself from the rest of you

and soaked the smaller dolls in glue so you can never get to me.

I don't feel like I'm a human anymore, but then again are you still human anymore either?

Even if I did manage to open them, even if I wanted to, you wouldn't be the same.

I've left you for so long, who knows

how rotten you've become, how much you've decayed.

You're not the same person you were when I did this to you.

Sometimes I feel sorry that I did this to you, I didn't mean for it to turn out this way,

but I did it for my survival. I'm sorry you're not coming back.