Dressed to the nines

Posed at the gate

Can’t move can’t move

Why can’t I move?


Just passed the gate

Are cupcakes

I’m so hungry

My arm hurts


Under my skin

The hard metal moves

and my nerves stand on end.


He’s come back.

His voice echos in my head

and gives me a headache.


“Here you go, beautiful doll,”

he whispered in my ear. “I’ll

let you wear a different dress.”


I try to beg

“Just let me go!”

His hands are cold.


I’ve been repositioned.

One arm up, one down.

Will this—




About blackwinterrosethorn

I am an artist and a writer whose living in Virginia. I go to Hollins University and I am a double minor in Creative Writing and Music. I've been writing for about eleven or twelve years. I've been singing forever and I have been drawing and painting for four or five years. I am open to doing commissions and collaborative pieces. View all posts by blackwinterrosethorn

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