a skully

You walk in a desert called desperation, your mind clouded by the stigmata of weariness, at your feet the sun-bleached skulls of your past and before you a door with an hourglass. 

‘I dare you to open the door’ a million voices screech.
You claw at the scabs in your mind and yell ‘No’

but your hand reaches out and grasp at the door and you open it…

You wake up in sweat.

(c) 2011 allen simpson

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