Pandora’s Box

Insomnia’s sheath,
Poor over solemn eyes,
She looks in the mirror,
To some how recognize this life.
Mind frame, coiled around surprise.

Pandora’s box, was there all the while.
Why was it locked?
To keep her out;
To draw her in?
Wandering years caught up,
Race through her mind.

The rush makes her choke,
Screams rise in her throat like smoke.
It’s the calm before the storm,
Some how keeping her warm.
The mirror seems worn now.

She shakes the box,
She breaks the lock,
Desperate for the answers it’s got.

Hands tremble, breath shallow,
Scintillating in her moist skin.
She savors this moment.
Pale comes over her,
Like wind, rain and night,
Rolled into one.
The box is empty;

Nothing.

The temptation, the tension,
Some mortal redemption;
The search, the lust;
Was not really knowing
The inside of the box

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