Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

all but dead

i don’t think anything can come between
myself and the pillow upon which i’ve
stacked so many dreams and also
so many sad, ripped seams of fleeting
thoughts that were caught up, strung
up – tied up in the lies my nightmares
preached as truth – they would whisper
them across rooftops in the night
without the slightest care of whether i
were strong enough to fight or not,
especially if i were still too young, not
yet old enough to have been taught –
once i open my eyes in the morning
i would realize they were all but dead –
the shadows which seem steadfast
and untiring in their pursuit to undo
every last thread of my being, every
last strand of hope in my head
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: tenacious

3 Responses to “all but dead”

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