By Nicole Manning
The pillow felt like poison to my hand
My body
My soul
I had so much left to say
To write
To push for.
If I went to sleep,
Would that mean my dreams would die?
Would that mean everything I pushed for,
Strived for,
Fought for,
Would end up as nothing but a pile of dust?
The pillow felt like poison to my hand
My body
My soul.
All those demons, those thoughts those dreams, would end up like dust in the wind
As they wouldn’t stop clouding my mind
As I closed My Eyes
These Eyes
But are they my eyes?
As when I close them I see others
I see colors
I see memories that won’t
GO!!!!
Why? you may ask
No one but my subconscious knows.
The pillow felt like poison
The pillow felt like poison
The pillow felt like poison to my hand
My body
My Soul
