Glass Bullet

Words like ice on glass
Liter bottles on the floor
Little flasks of something sweet
Like the memories we can’t recall any more

Clattering spoons and clinking cups
Spin stars in a milky night
It’s not that I’m afraid you’ll refrain
It’s that I know you’re not drawn to light

Moths to flames in empty echoes
Never ending simple sounds
Throwing themselves into caverns
Another glass bullet flying round


About thesarahsector

A teenage girl who doesn't say OMG or LOL. I like Trader Joes scones, NYC, and writing. Check out my blog at:
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