Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

haunted by goodness

a haunting hangs in the air, when
i stare too long, fixated on where our
existence could meet its time’s end,
when i reach that point, i begin
to curl up inside – as the cold mouth
of the unknown opens wide, the
presence of evil doesn’t bring me fear,
it’s the absence of goodness
threatening a little too near to my heart –
the idea of truth, long gone into ash
makes my soul feel like threads
pulled apart

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