Em Vermelho

For me you were always a woman.
With that pony tail shaking in the wind behind you, playing with your dad with those sweat drops of sweet running down your face.
When you grew up, going out for the Halloween, wearing that heavy make up.
Or..........
Where you running, scared of your drunk dad with sweeat drops of tears rolling down your face, with your pony tail shaking behind you?
Or were you running off your home, to never come back, with a purple eye, wearing a red dress ready to sell yourself in the night?
Sorry, my sweet pea.
My little plastic eyes see just what they want to see.
Just what you wanted it to be.
I see all up there on the shelf.
What's about that other man, now? Does he treats you just like your dad?
Is that why you are lying there, on the floor (not moving, not moving) in a puddle of red?