Finite (Weekly Prompt #4)

We always knew our days were numbered

finite and measured.

I always knew I wasn’t a choice

the kid with balled up fists

last to be picked.

We were lucid dreaming

rolling in grass of defeat

running

fingertips flexing, caressing denial.

I struggle to shift

the grip of your arms

safe and secret

we knew needed to be buried.

 

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WP #4: finite

Link your response to this prompt below. 

 

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3 thoughts on “Finite (Weekly Prompt #4)

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