she woke up
eyes wide, sweat wet on the nape
of her neck's unmarred skin
no fingerprints
or telltale bites
she woke up- not a sinner, not a disgrace
and smiled and laughed a relieved sigh
wiped stained cheeks
and looked up into Ma's eyes
it was a nightmare. just a nightmare
and tells her of all she dreamt
sad eyes look unto her-her mother's
it is the nightmare, darling.
You're living it.
~
9.9.16
YOU ARE READING
Tasting Hearts
PoetryPoetic gibberish from a teenage logophile where a girl writes what her fingers tell her to on the skeleton of rhyme, rhythm and reason.
