She Knows She Has Me
My fingernails are hanging on by a thread.
I can feel myself slipping
I know I will drop to my death
I scream all the way down.
WHOMP!
I hit my chest hard.
My eyes flutter open.
Bad dream? My muse asks.
She is smirking.
I hate her.
She does this to me at 3 a.m. every morning
When she wants me to get up and write.
I cover my head and play snore
Listening to her giggle.
She knows she has me.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2021
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