Attic Dreams
She sits on a chair,
Like a rag doll,
Her eyes cut out,
Her ears ripped off,
Her skin pale and dusty,
The man of her dreams,
In the trash can,
The sun shines,
Through the cracked window,
The little kid sits in the attic,
Pulling out her teeth,
Sewing her mouth shut,
Unable to speak,
Her death wishes,
To the kid that barely knew her,
She would've asked,
"Have you been tied up,
By haunting ghosts,
Twisting your dreams,
Into one long nightmare,
That would never end?"
The question that couldn't be asked,
Or answered in years,
So she remains in the kid's hands,
As the kid takes away,
Her only dreams,
Left inside of her.