Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

ghost shell

i cast my words off into the night of your heart, but they echoed against closed doors and hallways cluttered with ghosts in the dark but…

itch, drip

a still whisper drips from my lips hardly turning pages in the wind a summer breeze runs dry, making the sky itch her eyes she goes…

when it’s passed

my thoughts rain hard knocking on the doors of sidewalks and roads dripping from traffic lights and windowsills rushing with rivers, running down the arms of…