O I had bad dreams; I was wooded into the sand, lady, I am dead from you all I can’t speak, yet shadows made room for our mouths, bleeding by cobra heads, foetus grief, despair—I disappoint. I am dead from you all. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
This was a snippet that I thought could stand alone good enough as a poem. Hope you could enjoy.
Pseudopsychosis. 
It certainly can stand alone Lucy! ❤️
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Thank you, Ingrid!
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Macbre, with that scent of, grim to it.
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I’d agree with that! Thank you. 🙂
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Intense, as I’ve come to expect from you, Lucy…
-David
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Hahaha, thank you David! I have to remind myself to not be so intense in real life and I see it reflects in my writing. 😀
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“I am dead from you all.” Loved that
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Thank you!
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It sure is good on its own, Lucy. ❤️
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Thank you, Punam. ❤
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You are welcome.
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What a beautiful poem Lucy! What pathos! Such intense imagery! And the repetition of the line, ‘I am dead from you all’ is lyrically so powerful!
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Aww, thank you so much!
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Most welcome Lucy!
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Mysterious and dark, as if death lurks around the corner.
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Thank you so much!
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