Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Race

All I wanted was to beat the sun back to my bed,
and tell you the truth before she got to you.
I didn’t want her to pull back the curtains,
to bleach my beautiful dreams with her harsh light,
for there are things more frightening than the movie you watched last night,
through your shaking fingers as I pushed popcorn past your lips to suppress your screams.
I am half asleep as I hurry,
but awake and alive enough to know that my wooden heart is in flames,
collapsing under the bright burden of the inferno,
and I don’t want to love you,
but I’m captive to your whims and wishes,
sold down the river by the sun,
who whispers the truth to you,
and leaves me, languishing and longing.

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