

DollsWe move, we pose,Dolls
Like dolls. Like dolls.
We sit.
Like dolls.
We come with accessories that determine our price, The bargain bin standard; hair colour, eyes. That one is golden, that one is brown, She blinks with blue, she blinks with black.
The better ones sit on the top shelf, They have beauty and wit and charm, They can paint and sing and dance, They always get purchased first.
Then theres the cheap ones on the floor, With flawed stamped on their box. They arent as pretty, this one is


ScarringWe caught hands in my mind. My varied nail lengths, Had skin flakes caught beneath the enamel. The jagged mark, On the back of your neck, From that single bus ride in the rain. I never found out if your parents saw. I hope you still have the scars. They became, still are, the line between us. The bites a dirty secret. Lacerated chest. A dance we knew the steps of. Our own, comfortable, rhythm. As we batted blame back and forth, Our gazes were loaded.Scarring
How I wanted to hate you, Feel you shudder once again, Your eternal, infernal, everlas
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Have a gruesome day!
Treanna Dawn
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and i will smile, and laugh and choke
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and i will smile, and laugh and choke
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darkcelal
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no one to hear that last breath, one shot, one used soul x
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darkcelal
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