She had a dream

she was stuck in her bed,

stuck in her head,

left for dead

so she spread out all her thoughts across this keyboard

hoping someone could find her in between these words

a little voice that wants to be heard

but is scared of not being afraid

because the mess she’s made has her doubting her sanity

and all of humanity is a mess

they tell her it’s stress

but she can’t stress enough

that this is more than life being rough

there’s a certain place where she’s been before

but where she’s headed is behind a locked door

one she’d never opened in fear of what’s ahead

in fear of being stuck in her head,

left for dead,

alone in her bed

and when she thought she’d woken up,

a soft voice said,

‘my darling, this isn’t a dream…’

 

 

 

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