Broken Parts

His Toy

Sitting beautifully
All dolled up
Porcelain skin
Fair pink cheeks
Rose lips
Pale purple eyelids

Soft spoken when he's in the room
Her master
Her keeper
Her only friend
Her God

But what was she to him?
Perhaps nothing more than a toy
A play thing at the end of the day
She would wait day and night for him
Baited breath

If a toy was all she would be
She would be the best

She may never know his intention
But at least she could make hers clear
As she ran her bath
She cut the stems off her roses
Sitting each flower into the water with care

Biting her lip till a light drizzle of crimson ran
She slowly slid her body into the murky water
She would wait
She will wait
One day

She'll know
She'll know if she's more than just
...His Toy