'Photos', by Sophie Millar
she closed her eyes,
blindfolded and protected
she didn't want to see who had left
maybe an honest smile had disappeared
or the carefree hair
was it the clear skin with natural flush
or the favourite teddy bear
instead she closed her eyes,
blindfolded and protected
she laughed with the speech of truth
she laughed at the speech of fake
she treasured the sound of a smile in a voice
and she closed her eyes,
blindfolded and protected
she escaped into the sounds
and ran with the flow of words
she dodged the bites and stings of haste
and sought comfort in the running race
that’s why she closed her eyes,
blindfolded and protected
'Night-time', by Sophie Millar
Where did all these questions come from?
Can’t you leave them with someone else?
And not face them until you’ve forgotten?
You do not trust yourself to think
The answers you don’t want to face
The volume of music isn’t sinking them
Nor the drum beats scaring them
Running isn’t tiring them
Nor crying melting them
Only thinking is pulling them deeper
It’s worse to watch you now
I give you my hand
But you’re too far away
I do not see you now
I await your return
Hurry back now
Because I do not trust myself to think
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