Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I can be
an acquired embellishment,
a pagan pet, fit for dancing.
A misapplied smile, beaming.
Miry thoughts, sometimes drifting.
To fall into desire, and
then to sleep,
like a carrier
of other wasteful things.
Foresworn of being,
an idolater's plaything.
Poisoned by thoughts,
shouting for freedom.
Dulled, for the time being.
YOU ARE READING
Bedtime Prophecies
PoetryPoetic perceptions from a dissociative identity poet. Clearing the wardrobe to find a missing ring; found you instead in my discard pile.
