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by Sofia Kioroglou



The looking-glass self


Your stabs hit me exactly where you hope they would

with such ferocity that gouges out all vanity and conceit.

A knife thrust through the illusions of my bloated ego,

An ugly distortion of an inner image through a plastic glass

which finally crumpled with me looking at the looking-glass self.



a line, (a short blue one)


Can I tell your dog a secret?


"Can I tell your dog a secret?" Stephanie asked.

"I didn't know you were a dog whisperer" I answered quizzically.

A barrage of thoughts racing through my mind like it is a finish line.

How come we know nothing about the people we think we know the most?

Time to take a cigarette and put it in my mouth and let it burn my lungs...



a line, (a blue one)


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