Days when the darkest dreams I dreamt when I was small seem as faerie stories to me,
When I, monstrous, loom in the mirror ready to inflict another hurt
Days when my bones, awful, lumbering, heavy things sink so deep into my mattress springs that I cannot move for the weight of them
On these days, if it were not for my sanctuary, I would sleep and sleep till there was no waking-
but oh how lovely my sanctuary is.
It may not be brick, or wood or stone, but my mothers arms are safer than those- I swear.
And no, it has no guard standing watch, but my father is as good as- I know it.
And yes, it is dark outside.
It is so pitch that when I gaze through the window I am scared it might just have swallowed the sun-
But when my brothers are laughing with me,
or my grandparents are loving me,
or when all of these, my most beloved, are simply near to me;
I feel brighter than any star the universe has ever seen.
There are so many days when it's impossible to see these things or hold onto this feeling, but they are not days I want to write about right now.