Every dagger plunged through porcelain bones,
Shattered my pieces,     scattered on the floor.

No blood to be found,
Just remnants of a once hollow place.
Shattered glass shaking,                             pulling jagged edges together again.

Not even a tear could she shed. 
Sat pretty on Mama’s shelf
Shattered in daddy’s shop.

What would be left when she was all grown up?

Did it matter to them so long as she was their pretty doll back then?