She gave her the name Sugarbaby,
After her favourite, sweet things.
Unaware the name is not suitable,
After what happened last Spring.
She's bruised but does not bleed,
Her hair's like wire, not like string.
Her skin has lost colour
Like her dress that's unappealing.
Thus I am sorry to say,
Of sweetness, there is nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Battened Dollhouse
HorrorAfter all these years, home life has not adjusted to my developed temperament. I have lived for almost thirteen years yet my age contradicts my maturity, which I find peculiar as my intelligence should have bettered it. If I don't call my mother; mu...