A Sleeping Pill ShapedLike A Snowflake

by A.J. Huffman

I spin.

My thoughts like a web.



As directions

to the seven levels of hell.

I was there.

First.  Last.  And foremost.

I survived.

To tell a tale no one will believe.

But they sit in awe of its beauty.

Bloody and bold.

Like a song with no name.

They will carry it

in the back of their minds.


Locked tight.

Like the secrets of death.


By a fear

and a forgiveness

too deep for my hands

to see.

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