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Closed Doors

Nightmare or Reality?

By Sierra FrockPublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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A simple crisp night, flowing with ease

Laughter, liquor, and good times

Bass pounding and shaking the foundation

Living life to its fullest measure of possibilities

The darkness settles into my bloodstream

Like the swift motion of satan sweeping into human life

The shadows begin to overrule my control

NOT TOADY SATAN

as I sit there in a numb stupor

My body is in a trance

Hollow in a shell, yet, you can hear the faint drumming of existence

Flesh

Sweet, soft, vulnerable

Creeping claws delve into the pure cotto

NOT TODAY SATAN

Leaving imprints not seen by the naked eye

You would need a microscope to seek it remains

Rendering you useless and cuffed to regrets

Clinging on as if time could halt this notion

tainted...

What was once simple is now cursed

Now the smallest particles roam the surface, internally menacing

NOT TODAY

Haunting the mind on repeat like the constant waves crashing on the gray sand

time...

Can repair or destroy, by taking a chance with probability itself

Does it heal wounds? Or does it brand the memory into the innocent?

NO

Forever recovering from what was simple

To be never ending scars of a tragic fatality

Goodbye

heartbreak
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About the Creator

Sierra Frock

I’m always optimistic and on the search for adventure

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