Posted in Creative Writing


[a sort of follow-up to an older poem called Precious Things]

…In my chest
the creature wriggled in discomfort
as its feast of doubt ran out

and it began to tremble
hungry for change
emitting sparks
as it found a new way
to feed ambition
again, drawing too much attention
with the noise it was making

a racing heart

a thumping in my chest
it pressed
to be released

no more cages

only a feast of courage
and a flashlight
to take dream-catching
in the dark…
and a promise
not to come home empty handed



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