Porcelain Doll

In a small shop outside of town, on a dark and eery day, while rain comes crashing down, there I lay in dismay.

Silently I turn my head, to see my reflection from within.

With words unsaid, I see my glassy blue eyes.

Where a spirit once lied, that is now dead, left hollow and empty.

A delicate face, with now cracks in its place.

From hands unfair, lies these cracks from smacks.

Neck scorned red, where hands once led, across its surface.

Arms bruised from the lips of grips.

Legs with cuts from fallen times, defending what was rightfully mine.

My dress is ripped and torn.

From a time when my tears were born.

Breaking chains, running to far away plains.

Yelling out in pain, slowly going insane.

With hair amess.

Tick tock.... Tick tock.... goes the clock.

That time has passed. 

My skin now shattered, like shardes of glass.

Now bleeding vains, like sinking rain, leaves me with red stains.

Vains now wires, once hidden my human desires.

Cuts now cracks, cracks now holes, now without a soul.

Morphing my skin into porcelain.