what keeps me safe
what keeps me safe,
is not a comb,
so rough
upon hair
in this brittle dark.....
Tormented by demons,
tossing and turning,
as I sleep.....
to my own
brain with conflictions
as it soundlessly weeps
and growls.....
This voice, was a mouse,
now I roar
this ruggedly lion
and feel my pulse.....
Its quickening,
like a marathon running....
Copyright © Ryan Geoffrey Hayward | Year Posted 2025
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