Saturday, July 11, 2015

I Feel So Free

Late in the night
I am writing poetry
no one tries to
hustle me to bed

There is no pressure
the night alive and I
don’t have to go to 

Bed, where we snuggle
down into strange dreams
wake tired as when we
went to bed, while the ice
drops and makes me think


He’s still after me

2 comments:

  1. Frightening poem Willow, after a hopeful beginning. I want you to be free to write and dream with no one after you.

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  2. Really sounds nightmarish, Diane.... Keep writing your words.

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