Allowed To Be Done

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New found fondness for the red lines
Cris crossed and crooked on her thighs
Deep crimson visible as black on white
Bold abstract warning like tiger stripes

Tossing and turning no sleep at night
Every moment sparks memories-struggling not to cry
Utter fear of sleep of having to close her eyes
So hard so trying does nobody win the fight?

No place left to go no where at all to turn
Nothing worth looking at so stare at the sun
Days are ended before they've yet begun
Waiting every moment to be allowed to be done

Poetry From a Twisted Mind and Broken HeartWhere stories live. Discover now