These blankets are a cocoon, I'm convinced.
In the morning, I'll emerge, brand new,
to be afraid of nothing, no monsters
real or imagined, under the bed
or hidden beneath my own skin,
outside the safety of the bedroom,
or locked inside the cage behind my eyes.
The wings will free me from the pain of being,
and reaching up toward a light I can finally touch,
I'll be washed clean, whole at last, and perfect forever.

08/22/2010

Posted on 08/22/2010
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