Sore Shoulders
Sore shoulders
Rough nightmares
In my sacred pillow
An unexpected message
From the past
Under a new name
I feel the hair on my neck tingle
I'm being watched
An autumn has passed
So much has been done
So much cannot be undone
I wake in fear
Exhale in relief
The weight has
Already been lifted
My hands aren't tied
To a detonating bomb
I rub my wrists
Free
But weirdly uncomfortable
To not have the
Handcuffs of lead
on my wrists anymore
Copyright © Shimokini The Abendrot Poet | Year Posted 2019
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