the cell felt the same, though she wasn't lying on
the other side of the room, sleeping, unbeknownst to
their current torment
it was just her
just her
the raucous shouts from the other inmates
roused her from her complacent reverie
trust a dream and it will come true
she would be too afraid to sleep at night
the nightmares were more common
than any delightful wonderland her addled mind
could even attempt to develop
you reap what you sow
you worked hard to get where you are now
shut up, shut up, shut up!
SHE'S STILL OUT THERE SOMEWHERE
you ruined everything you touched
you gave into temptation and trusted another
she would be ashamed of you
your vile behavior
your egotistical unhinging
what a monster you've become
(she would never awaken from this living nightmare)
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
