fiddling with
the edges of my tapestry
well past midnight
Provides no solace for the sleepless mind
yet
Turning the fabric
between fingertips
covered in scars from work
lulls me to a place
where I have no sense
where i have no emotions
none of the fear that plagues me
when i am
awake
the act of minor fidgeting awakes
her brain;
the part that lies unaware of
what life really holds
YOU ARE READING
becca's poetry :)
Poesiaso, i won't be updating this much, but whenever i'm proud of something i've written i'm going to share it here. all work is mine and original unless otherwise stated ! :) hope you enjoy.
