Night walking. Head hazy. The streets warped like an Escher picture. Yet my routefinder kicks in. My feet walk a path they’ve walked too many times before.
Third lamppost on the left, take the snicket Dark and narrow I snag on brambles falling free, skin torn, stinging. Head for the light, the other side. Stumble on loose paving stones down the steps to arrive on your street.
Quiet. Calm. Unchanged.
I sit on the pavement. Hug my knees tight. Here again.
In the depths of night, in the thick of silence, it cuts through the window. Slicing through the blinds. A sharp smile dancing on the walls. I run my fingers through the light. Grasp it in my hands. For a moment I’m not alone. I hold it in my hands and my heart lifts, my mind cools. Night after night. I wait for that smile.
a wink of silver
flashes in an ink like blue
slight in the darkness
waiting in the still
We stood on top of the hill. The city lights glistened below. Like stars dropped from the skies.
Just moments from home yet a different world. Up here the moon shined fierce, the cold bit harder. The shadows screamed.
Up here the earth was strong.
Hushed whispers ran through the grass. Howling wind slapped our faces. Charcoal trees laughed in darkness. Gnarled branches scratched our skin.
Our soft flesh scraped and tattered, we became something else.
Eyes burned ebony whirlpools. Limbs stretched, wings emerged. We took flight into the night. Another shadow, another scream.
I threw my heart into the sky. There it hangs, waiting. Glowing bright. Beating boldly. Longing for you to notice.
Dusk lays the path. The path to night. Soft pastels turn. Shadows beneath. I crave the night. Its soft touch. A velvet blanket. I lay enraptured.
Early morning. Waking up. A light in the window, reflects like the moon. For a moment I forget. Forget where I am, what time it is. Inside or outside. Night or day. For a moment anything is possible.
The familiar, unknown. Bright colours, dark. This room she loves a canvas for nightmares. The wardrobe a gateway, a dragons mouth, demons and shadows all lurking inside. Teeth gnashing, claws dragging, covers pulled up tight. Heart pounding, fingers curled. A squeak, a whispered shout.
A warm touch. Her familiar face. That voice. She touches your skin, brushes the hair from your head, with a soft lullaby the nightmares dissolve. Evaporate.
They lay waiting for the darkness. For fear to rise again.
Stream of thought
you strike again.
Night light glows softly. Bed time stories done. I get up,walk away, yet you call me,”Don’t let the monsters in”. You don’t yet understand. Monsters are just shadows and darkness. They are not in the cupboard. Not under the bed. Monsters are in the street, in the people you know. They live within you. Screaming to come out. Screaming in silence.
I draw your duvet up, stroke your head. There are no monsters here. Hush now. Hush.