Bruxism
that's what they called it
grinding her teeth
at night while she slept
only one of the nasty habits
she'd picked up
the main reason
she still needed
to unlock those damned doors
Her subconscious
still directing
the plot
tangled
inside a sixties B movie
protecting her
by hiding
the truth
redirecting
her thoughts
leading her
towards the light
but the dark
still beckoned
leaving a slick stain
beneath the sheets
of her memory
like unwashed skin
exuding its distinct odor
she had to find the key
she had to let go of the ring.
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The Dark Path Brightens
It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...
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It occurs to me That I require an ideal To summit these peaks. Something more than a patch. My tenacity shouts above my perception Shooting ...
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***A prose poem written in pidgin english Da gross cockroach militia stays booming in da plumbing in da face of mass killings in Kaneohe ...
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How do you say goodbye recall the fragile faith in the eyes of a starfish before tossed ashore by the careless surf? Or crack the ...
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