Burning Pictures

March 7, 2011
I watch as the last tear falls on to the pale white wood.
Who is this girl in the picture?
Who does she think she is?
Standing there like she has the greatest life known.
I don’t recognize her.
Do I know her?
Her sun-kissed face glowing with happiness.
Standing in a field, where worries disappeared.
Have I met her once?
I think I might have.
I see her, I feel her presence as if she was my best friend.
The candle burning simply near her face.
The picture slowly finds itself toward it.
Attracted to the light the fire gives off like a lightning bug.
When she leaves no one will remember her existence.
I watched as the picture was swallowed into the flames.
I wonder if anyone notices how they let her down.
Destroying her soul in the process.
I laugh a little and watch as the flames die out.
“That’s not me,” I tell myself.
That’s just a girl who was never important.
A girl trying to find her place in the world.
One who was lost forever, and never found her way…





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