I lie scattered,

like an old toy that has been used, abused and outlived its value.

My kohl-sodden tears etch the tumultuous journey of my life across my withered face.

Somewhere in the recess of my foggy mind the wail of a siren gets louder.

photo by Nareeta Martin via Unsplash

*****

In response to Three Line Tales 246

3 thoughts on “Scattered

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