704 Broken [02 May 2005]

Fear.
It grasps at the edge of my consciousness
as do the gray tendrils of dawn
at the fragments of night.
Broken, I lay here,
untended, unknown.
Once was I whole,
once did I dance,
but I am held down now
by cold iron change
biting into tender wounds.
Thus bound and gagged,
none shall hear my cry,
none will save me from this despair.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017

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