Vignettes I-IV


Ink these love letters into your veins because by dawn, they will dissolve. I had lost myself in loving, but I refused to do it a second time. The blaze of a match means we torch these memories and leave burning embers in our wake.


I remember his offer of apple juice poison, but when his mouth touched mine, it tasted like vinegar. If the lights hit the mirror at just the correct angle, I could see all his resolutions and broken promises written on the glass.


She told me I lured them all in with the words that come from deep within. When he called me a siren, I noticed that’s not exactly a compliment. It’s been said that an addiction is hardest to heal when your brain convinces you that it’s a passion. So these words will not die a martyr but used and shattered all the same.

Every time I think I’m close to stopping, another dam bursts open and I’m stuck holding my jaw because I’m afraid of spitting my bloody teeth on the vinyl flooring. No one said this would be beautiful. No one said this would be a slaughter.


Looking back on it, you’d think I’d regret it. Your mockery was made to cut me down, but you gave me a kingdom and henchmen. Maybe the power went to my head, and maybe that’s why I don’t look in mirrors anymore.

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