Featured Work | August 24, 2019

‘Ropes’ | rodentonthewheel | Poetry

There are ropes inside my head
That reach my throat,
Choke me with the thread
of thought, of possibility,
and of dread.
They intertwine – 
one leads to another
and the grip tightens,
I am smothered
until my cheeks are robbed
of their color
and I am suffocating. 

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