Your scalp tingles when the night loosens its safety pins.
Two feet can take you far but so can your sins.
Still, you rush towards the lanterns like a little kid.
The jar of darkness has lost its seven lids.
You feel like it is your fault, and you want mend it.
The stars meddle with your vision, but you cannot defend it.
You hear voices in the background screeching for truth.
They turn into whimpers.
They are coming for you.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 