A barren stare
behind her long, auburn hair.
A guilty complex
from a frayed conscious;
softly dreaming
the words a narration
of footsteps in crowded rooms.
Enamel shattered the chandeliers
wolves’ lair
snuck in her tongue as a liar,
revealing the person
she wanted to be with;
the one she romanticizes
over when there’s no one
listening.
It’s me.
Twitter – @AC0040
(© 2022 AC)
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