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Jan 2019
Every noise slithers 'cross
My ear drums with
The cool slickness of a
Sandpaper serpent
My skin pulled tight
'Cross my raw nerves
Nerves
Stretched stiff as a drum skin
Upon which beats this
Percussive tattoo of wild instinct
I clamp my eyes, vice-like
"Please let me wake"
But no
In this misty dream realm
I remain tethered, chained
Stuck in a sarcophagus
               of
Strangled Silence
Waking from a night terror, half in, half out of sleep. Never sure which is reality.
Rowan S
Written by
Rowan S  26/US
(26/US)   
486
 
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