A Dark Memory

In this room I’m but a speckle
Surronded by crystals and paintings
Dim of light, the broken lamp lies
Bulb cracked, lampshade twisted
All I manage is to lye
Covered in bruises, rolling tears
Hidden by the black leather chaise
My heart thuds in fear of you
Your expensive charm no longer hides
Such a horrid inside
Stop convincing me your that porcleain doll,
Ontop the wooden stool in the corner
For I now know
Who you truely are

~The bold words were starting words I used to create this fictional piece.

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