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Hallucinations

My best friend

By Holding Hands With ShadowsPublished 3 years ago 2 min read
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Photo: Sammy Catherine Photography

Your fingertips are on my shoulder,

I can feel your nails dig into my skin,

My body trembles.

Your grip is tight.

My foot pushes down on the gas,

Everything accelerates.

Ten over, twenty over, thirty over.

We speed past the trees,

Around the bend,

Everything is a blur.

I see you move in the corner of my eye,

I jump, whipping my head around.

The back seat is empty, but I could have sworn-

I slam on the breaks.

The turn is too sharp.

Back on the road I breathe in shaky breaths.

You whisper in my ear,

I curse under my breath.

Slower now,

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Your fingers trace along my neck,

Down my back.

You’re whispering again but I can’t make it out.

I know you’re not real but you’re there.

You’re always there on the darkest days.

Here when I need someone the most.

When my soul is too restless,

And my chest is ready to burst,

Out you come.

Taking some of my darkness from inside my heart.

Maybe it’s dangerous to talk to my shadows.

Maybe it’s all in my head.

Maybe you’re saving me from being consumed.

Maybe you’re trying to help.

I’m terrified by you but,

I never turn you away.

I don’t know what I would do without you.

Am I anyone if I don’t have you?

What would be left?

Maybe I’m too terrified to find out.

Forty over now.

My vision is a wet haze.

I slam on the breaks again and stop.

The water looks so inviting.

Sit with me for a while,

Let’s talk it over,

Let’s think it out.

Let’s breathe.

Then I’ll take you home.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Holding Hands With Shadows

It's only a phase.

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