One Of The Vultures

Photo by MOHAMED ABDELSADIG from Pexels

The tiny crumbs of regret fall onto my lashes like snow,

And I can no longer hold the water back,

I must let the tears flow.

There is a red fire far behind my charcoal black irises,

But if nobody notices the damn spark,

I can trap my fears into chalices.

I make them drink, then turn their sweat into ice sculptures.

Honey, how did I go this far?

How did I become one of the vultures?

-Jackie

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