Resting is not easy
when you spend your days in fear.
How could you sleep when you can’t forget your demons?
How can you remember what happiness feels like
when everything around you is grey and petrified-
faces solid as stone,
cold as ice.

Life is all about memories.
Remembering the good,
spending lifetimes trying to forget the horrible.
Growing older means the good memories
become a sort of bedtime story;
a happily ever after.
But how can we have bedtime stories when sleep is impossible?
How can we have happily ever afters
when the end is already grey and petrified?