The Victorian Doll
Scarlet locks of hair lay over her porcelain face,
so fair,
Barely hiding her murky, cold eyes that stare.
A doll so innocent, standing on top my dresser,
Waiting for the lights to flicker off, I'm a guesser.
The dismal feeling surges through my shaking figure
Timidity and cold sweat build between my fingers
I run up from my soft bed and turn her the other way
Grandma's own toy handed down before her funeral day
Mother tells me to sleep now.
"I Love you, too" I say and lie down.
Tick, tock, tick, tock
Drop.
What was that? I quickly pull in my feet.
I take hold of the comforting bed sheets.
I hear dragging on the matting.
Oh, God, this isn't happening?
I look up in blur
It's her...
