ˈnītˌme(ə)rs

ˈnītˌme(ə)rs

250.00

ˈnītˌme(ə)rs (nightmares) 
Scrambling to reach your hand
It has drifted too far from mine
I fear that I am falling behind
Slipping through the cracks in our story
This nightmare has just begun
Nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run.
- Emily Minor

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9in x 12in
Ink on wooden panel