She shaved my head with a meticulous malice.
My beautiful brown locks littered the cold tiled floor.
Roughly grabbing my head into her spidery broken fingers she spoke.
"My little hairless mole rat" she called me as she got up and crept away.
Alone I sat whimpering..not of fear or sadness, but of joy.
I know deep down she loves me, no matter how twisted that love must be.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 8:46pm on Nov 21, 2024 via server WEBX2.