I open my phone to take a picture of the sunset, fingers sliding easily across the screen. I open the camera and
Choke on repulsion. A monster states back at me.
My fingers shake, sweaty with disgust pouring from my very veins as I reach down and
Turn selfie mode off.
YOU ARE READING
Words are Knives
Poetryperhaps night is dark to provide us less distraction from our nightmares. Ranking: #267 in Poetry #144 in Poetry