Tuesday, November 01, 2005

curled up in bed
scared
still
of the voices
loud
of the monsters
at her door

she lies
still
squeezing her eyes
shut
willing away
the darkness
all
around

a lullabye
soft
she hums
to herself
to try to bring back
fairies
small
and the sweet
pink smell
of
damp
green grass

2:46 am

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