(I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD BITCHES)
Run.
Run from all your
Fears.
Fur moves with the
Wind.
Paws hit the jagged
Roots ascending from
The ground.
The iridescent
Moon lights your
Path.
You make your
Way trying
To find her.
She means the world
To you.
But she's hiding.
Maybe she's chasing
You.
Her name,
Fear.
No matter where
You go,
She's here.
She's watching you
For her cue.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryThese are all poems written by me, if you use them please give me credit. Thank you
