troubled dreams

troubled dreams
darkest night
riding my bike
wearing a red dress
chasing cars
my future flying past
telling me it’s okay
to go home now


I’m gone

I’m gone
no sound
nothing but night
dress torn
eyes dry
picturing blood
the knife
shoulders — shaking
just silence
and I was gone

first there was an empty space

first there was an empty space,
then a character with no name
afraid of the dark;
found ― a book of words
that carried her to another world
where magic flowed from her fingertips,
shoes off, hair blowing in her face

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