So many nightmares too many nights where I’ve woken gasping grabbing at something anything to tether me to reality to prove I’m no longer dreaming knowing I’ll soon have to fall asleep again slipping back into the grasp of rapists, monsters and demons the spawn of a tortured mind paralyzed by fear before even succumbing to the tormenting hours of tossing and turning of screaming people can’t wait to fall asleep if not for the peacefulness of dreams but forget to mention that nightmares are dreams too
A silence on the night. The day fluttered quietly in whisper soft resonance, So many colours slowly dying Like confetti in the rain, And echoes touched each other, a reunion of themselves, As though they were astounded At their resonating
Put off the lantern. I am waiting for the moon’s primal face. The lesser flamingoes were going to shed the pink color. Nude as a python, the kiss of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation. I suffer in the hands of protests.
It was night sin of domesticity. Dyed, I am loading the white secret of pain in the hollow of a mayhem. Till every blunder takes a downward flight striping the outsized image of a kill. His flames are now singeing