Hanging daggers- blade towards ground. Every shrug – a bloody gown. Laying face- up under death? They won’t slitthee, surely rest. Only hang- falcon beaks ready to bite- so they’re certain you’ve no peace.
Dream catcher with Beads of visions, does nothing to prevent them- but swears them allegiance. Holds them with thread so at nighttime you lay awake and see no clear sky.
They are not weapons, not in reality- One is a problem, the other- a mess, all mocking at your failure of solving them. Stubborn- “ You’re not getting rid of us yet ”
Nightmares cooperate, giving them way. No chest will breathe again unless the Soul faces and breaks them away.
PS: Get rid of the daggers hanging over your heads- face all them worries and defeat'em