Called into the room by an unknown voice that
creeps up the spine and settles in the ear,
a whisper gathering into a scream.
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-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
Called into the room by an unknown voice that
creeps up the spine and settles in the ear,
a whisper gathering into a scream.
Thank you for reading! Please follow or subscribe for more poems!
Want more? Check out my Patreon!
-Alina