Dialogue with the inner child
I trace your face:
every line,
every wrinkle.
There is a story, a purpose:
you found and kept and found and lost
and lost yourself further.
Going deeper into the woods, deeper,
searching for darkness, who watches you, cowardly,
reclined on his seat, knowing that dawn will have you back
before the blackness in your heart spreads
and leaks into the world.
Why look for trouble,
when the child waits for you to tuck her in bed?
She is alone, fighting nightmares, fighting your battles
because you never told her about dreams.
(2012)
