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.