They Called Her Doll Face Katrina Lising Litrus editor in chief Her face glowed
Like a porcelain doll
Fresh and untouched
Inside a cardboard box
She smiled like one too
Stoic and effervescent
Behind a film of plastic
That made her painted
Face glisten like a
Reflection in the stillest water
The fire came and went
Turning her box into a pile of ashes
Soaking her skin
With hot blue flames
Crumpling the plastic film
Until it disappeared
Her face melted slowly
The liquid flesh dripped
From her bones
Like hot peanut butter
Sticky and bubbly
It crawled down her bones
She winced in pain
Cried without fear
Of smearing her pretty face.
She screamed like a mad
Undiscovered animal 
Her body jerked like wild
In the wind of the fire 
Until all that was left 
Was a pile of ashes
Permeating the good, rich earth