Daphne Linn

who am I?

what have I become?

I don’t know how or why

but I am unable to find where I started from

I keep promises

just not ones I made for myself

I tell prophecies

one-sided conversations

my face, drenched in scarlet

one size, no alterations

my fist, clenched and tarnished

her crimson misdirections

calculated remarks

your hints and missed intentions

they didn’t cooperate with each other

but it seems they shattered us both

ignored our calls

like a broken rhyme scheme

they didn’t work alongside one another

but it seems they splattered us both

am I just like everybody else?

sticking my nose in the pages of every magazine

watching, searching, scrolling, asking “what have you seen?”

am I just like everybody else?

The most beautiful girl in the world is dead, and I am not sure whether I should be afraid of ghosts.

The long shadow stretched out on the path could easily have belonged to one person, but it instead trailed behind two lovers, synchronized in their every movement.