Broken Doll
Perched in a corner, a forgotten Black porcelain doll watches me with lovely brown glass eyes. The bust of her plaid dress is torn open revealing her busted open chest. Smudges of fingerprints litter the doll's Black body. Her ruptured breast exposes that her heart is broken as well. An agonizing pain consumes my breast the longer I stare into weeping brown eyes. The mirroring hollow chests epitomize the violence that has been done to the doll and me. A voiceless scream bounces off the walls of the crime scene. In my agony, I realize that broken body was me. END.
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