Her Body was a Porcelain Doll by: Rose Clifford
A single tear lingers on her face,
Pale and fragile, she shakes.
Her thoughts unzipped to an unconscious state,
Kidnapped by the sins of her mind.
She transformed into a porcelain doll-
Beautifully inanimate in the pool of her blood,
Seeping into the bedspread,
Cascading like a metronome,
To the white rug of her unmarked floor.