Poetry

As your vines

Reach out to me. I pull away, hoping you won’t get too close.

As I know what you are capable of doing to me.

You try to get me to make eye contact, but I won’t look up as I’m sure it will be the end of me.

Just a couple more hours, and I will have survived your torture.

But will I be strong enough next time?

Written By: Deirdre Stokes Copyrighted ©️ 2022 By Deirdre Stokes

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