Destruction.

The world sells

destruction.

And,

I eat it for breakfast.

My home.

No, not a home.

My house

is too small

to fit in

all my anger

and destruction.

I see it leaking.

Cutting the sunlight

in two.

I sold my soul

to the devil

but, all he gave me

was this graveyard

of memories

that sits on my eyelashes,

instead of the dreams

he promised me.

One night,

I touched the sky

and asked,

“where are all The Good Things

in life”.

The moon placed

its palm

on my heart,

and whispered

here.

here.

here.

---

-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore

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