in the morning as a child
the night terrors steeped in her blood
on the kitchen counter an empty mug cooled
and inside her heart a chamber opened.
a child’s fears are that of an adult’s yet
their skin lacks the web so colourless it holds
she was enveloped with a black dye
so fighting for awareness bent to her deep sleep.
blood does not let nor do dreams
her waking habits succumbed for them
a child that never learnt to soothe the nightmares
she wished to leave forever.