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…’
My Blunt Truths 