Watching the spirits dance in the moonlight while nursing her new bruises
It made her want to run out there and join them.
She knew she shouldn’t. She knew what would happen. She would never come back.
Pushing off her back step she decided it was better than the alternative.
Winding through the dark recesses of my mind
I follow the glimmer of an idea as it floats just out of reach
So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I fell into a mental swamp
Pushing me under the murky surface to drown in the fetid cerebral sludge
Writing ephemeral stories
If I could just get a grasp on them
So I am not surprised when they slip away
Pulling me farther into my mind’s swamp