I lay in wrinkled sheets of tossing and turning sleep
Unable to rest
Troubled by a conscious of pure despair over the nightmare that took my joyous reality into its unrelenting grip
And twisted it without mercy
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Charred warm hands reach out as if wanting to comfort me if solid and hold my face as I lift my head to see a loving charm replace her cold lifeless expression as her lips began to part open once more nice simile, nice prosaic poem 10
i have to say good job this is my favorite poem of yours yet. it kept the reader on the edge of their seat and it relieved them when they got to the end. i loved it!