Poetry from Brianna Dawn.


frightened to the bone,
your blood wanted to run right
out of you, turning your skin
cold and head light
anxiety swarms your brain like bees
nervous that ghosts might unravel themselves
from the shadows of the night
and float like balloons in the wind,
bending their knuckles around
your eyes, you can feel them
climbing up your spine
wondering why you turned the light off
but it continues to shine
from the other room,
someone calls from the hall,
you turn around and see nothing,
not anyone, not even yourself at all

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