nadia dmitri > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

It looks at me like I am a mirror on the wall

He told me his name but I couldn't hear it over the noise

Conducting an autopsy on my wasted potential

I keep thinking about all the ways I could go crazy right now.

I marvel at the mundane horror of daily Winter commutes

So I burn

They want you, but at what cost?

I have learned that if it looks, sounds, and feels like begging, then it is.

I think now my words use me

Now only loved for the value of her death