She learned too soon that nothing is what it seems,
So she sought escape within her dreams.
In her dreams, as people do,
She captured her sorrows and bound them tight
And then she flew.
In her dreams she learned to write
And read and speak with all her might.
In her dreams, she knew that people would hear
When she stood up and walked and talked without fear.
In her dreams, she would fall asleep,
No whispers or shouts or monsters too strong,
And within that slumber, she dreamed of all she would reap.
In her dreams, she knew the edge of a blade,
The sharp of an axe, the blunt of a blow,
The smell of crimson blood
Long after it ceased to flow.
In her dreams, she saw the rain,
Cold and sweet and killing her pain.
She dreamed and dreamed and then she woke
In a dark hour on a misty night
Stepped out of her door into a relentless shower
Thinking all the while of her dreamer’s sight;
Wrestled against the wind with a feeble body’s power
Sobbing and screaming
Loud and silent,
A violent woman on a lonely prowl.
She walked and walked
As she dreamed and dreamed,
Sounds of anguish welcomed into a pitch black world.
Long moments later she slipped away
For the while out of sight
And forever out of her anguished mind.