Daddy’s little girl 

I used to be daddy’s little girl. Sometimes I like to think that I still am. That if need be he’d drop all that was important at the chance to rescue me. His little baby girl. The youngest of all his children and the splitting image of his soft brown skin and once thick head of hair. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s