On the Shelf

I sit high upon my friend's shelf. My neighbors are a stuffed animal and a fluffy rabbit toy. Of all the wonders my friend possessed, I was her greatest treasure.
My friend and I spent day and night together. We explored the garden, played teatime, and traveled everywhere she brought me. At dusk, she placed me on this shelf and I watched her like her guardian angel while she slumbered. During those nights, I knew that we would be together the very next day.
As the years progressed, our relationship began to grow faint. She fancied other hobbies and created friends who can respond to her when she speaks. I, as well as my stuffed neighbors, still sit on the shelf. Gray dust fell on my dress and my porcelain skin became cold, longing for the warmth of her hands.
I watch my friend, but she barely minds me. She continues to grow, but I cannot reach her. She is moving on, while I sit on the shelf.