One wrong move and I set it off.
Like a landmine in the darkened bloodied fields of war.
One wrong move and i trigger it
Something that would put even the goriest of stories to shame.
One wrong move and my knife would end up stained
Like the metallic red on a pristine white carpet.
One wrong move...
YOU ARE READING
Nighthawk
PoetryNighthawk: a recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night-an overdue task, a nagging guilt, a looming and shapeless future-that circles high overhead during the day, that pecks at the back of your mind while you try to sleep, that...
