Daily poetry from Brianna Dawn.

wishful, self loathing;

it gripped my bones
squeezing them – torso,
a tuna can ripped open – i had
to turn my face away
i didn’t want to bring
up those things that had
been setting for a long time,
but never really settled at all
i thought of all the things
that called out to me while
floating in my dreams …
fragments of some reality
broken at the seams

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