She watches the rain;
pitter-patter against the windows.
She wonders why Spring hasn't come.
She needs a new beginning as much
as the sun flowers do.
She stares at her arms.
Half healed scars,
faded red lines that once were
her ways to escape this life.
She wishes the rain would just wash them away, leaving porcelain skin.
And no more bad memories.
But then she'd break easier than she did
before.
She's no doll, with
rosy cheeks, and
golden curls.
She hides dark secrets behind her
supposed glass eyes,
and a terrible desire.
But the previous doll she was
it was broken,
so now she awaits the sunflowers and the rain,
hoping they'd fix the broken pieces of her
life.
