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Once again, a cowrite with Amanda Owen. For 18 years of age she wields a mighty pen

Why do these thoughts invade my sleep
Questions unanswered that just won't keep
They addle my brain as I curse the night
Down on my knees I shiver from fright


The silence screams as I listen
My eyes have a sobering glisten
My throat tightens, I can't breathe
The nightmare becomes unsheathed


I struggle as I gasp for air
My head snaps back in defiance I stare
This invisible host holds my attention
Spiraling i won't face this deception

I look in the sky, it is dark
I look on the street, there are no cars
I look in the vase, it is empty
I look in the mirror, and don't see me

Was there ever really a me
Could you, would you, did you see
Did I breathe was I real
Or my existence a dream so surreal

As I fade into the sky
I look at all I'd left behind
Not a trace of where I'd been
Except some paper, and a pen
By
MaryFrances and Amanda Owen