Insomniac

She walks, barefoot,

Across the shattered glass of her broken dream.

Soles, tender like those of a child,

Cut open, bleeding upon those splintered shards.

Waking pain, a tender agony, at least they

Bring something to this timeless abyss.

 

She groans, rolls over,

In the infinite spirals of her mind she turns.

Staring, eyes blank, she blinks,

Then gazes at you with an awkward bemusement.

Curious, like a lost faerie creature

Searching for a place to belong.

 

She smiles, a demon’s grin,

Lips cracked from stinging frustration.

She screams, a lonely howl,

Agony from trapped corners of a breaking heart.

Then she sighs, slipping back to

Hollow calm without rest or respite.

Published by Cara Amy Goldthorpe

Entrepreneur, earth warrior, storyteller and lawyer, with a mission to promote ways of living more harmoniously with nature and with each other.

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