
Books stacked high,
I’m thinking about
how I reuse words like
excuses. The sound ringing
in my ears, the familiarity of it all
as another one leaves my mouth.
Thank you for reading! Please follow or subscribe to read more poems!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness

Books stacked high,
I’m thinking about
how I reuse words like
excuses. The sound ringing
in my ears, the familiarity of it all
as another one leaves my mouth.
Thank you for reading! Please follow or subscribe to read more poems!
-Alina