SOLD

"In sickness and in health",
Farce. All farce.
He was the sickness.

Almost 13 now, she was
familiar with submission,
Yet, barely knew what intimacy meant.

Fingers fluttering through her tethered clothes,
She could still feel his alcohol.
The floor welcomed her blood as it swept across.
Surely, it was her fault again.
Daal too salty?

Goddess sold to the demon,
Hell prevailed.

Her dolls chided her for leaving,
The little bride had stopped breathing.