Its a School Scene

With desks from high school

and textbooks that we

cannot touch.  Three of us

stuck in a pose.

 

I can’t see my companions,

but I know they are from

my high school. My hands are stuck

and we have been frozen.

 

There is an IV in every

right arm. He comes in.

Hello, my dolls. Let me just

check on you here.

 

Ah, very good. Very very good.

His breath is hot and rank.

I feel him pull back my hair

from my shoulder.

 

Your make up needs to be fix,

my love. He brushes something

onto my face. You are too old,

Lizzie.

 

There is a ripping sound

and the camera is splattered

with blood.  Someone drags

them away, their shoes squeaking

 

The floor. Just another one

of his victims.

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Doll to be Prepared

I was prepared.

My hair was permed,

extensions added in for length.

Make up everywhere needed.

He made sure I was perfect.

 

He put a red dress

on my body. Black evening

gloves on my hands and arms.

I haven’t seen myself

in the mirror, yet.

 

Gently, He put on

a silver necklace.  I feel

my skin breaking out.  He positioned

a pose between my fingers.

It was red.

 

His hands were gentle

as He caressed my throat.

My skin opened up and like a faucet,

something poured over my

chest.

 

It all went black.

Number Six

She sits pretty,

pink wig on. White

top, tank.

The sleeves off

her shoulders.

 

He had adorned

her hair with flowers,

creating pigtails.

Her eyes were glazed,

frozen.

 

Her mouth was partially

open, as if she were exhaling.

Blood poured

from her throat, cut.

He only did that

 

to the ones he loved.