WAVES OF WORRY
- Dark Poets Club
- Dec 19, 2025
- 1 min read
By Bethany Jade McDonnell
It comes in waves, they say—
not the kind that kiss your feet.
No, these waves devour.
They wear faces:
a song, a scent,
memories before the storm.
They come at 3am.
In silent screams,
dreams turned nightmares.
A whisper of water,
but it’s a tempest
waiting to drown you.