Thorns
I reached out
stretched farther than ever before
I'm not sure what I expected
why I thought it might
end differently this time
Audentis fortuna iuvat
Fortune favors the bold
My fingers pass through
shadowy specters
grasping at ghosts
phantoms of fantasies
mocking me maliciously
leaving me to languish alone
lost in a mist of nothingness
that swirls like smoke and ashes
cremated creations of my own mind
Hope revealed to be but a vine
covered in thousands of thorns
in which I am entangled
slicing and piercing my soul
in its most sensitive places
as the clouds above burst
soaking me in salt water
Yet I will dare to dream
again tomorrow
that someday my hand
will take hold of something solid
Someone in that mist will grip mine
the stinging silence broken
by a simple 'hello'
Copyright © Angela Douglas | Year Posted 2021
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