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

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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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