Pale as death she wanders
Into the only place that can offer reprieve.
With unsteady hand she turns off the light,
But even curled up tight,
she cannot give herself to sleep.
How do I keep returning to the same glassy places?
Feet cutting, blood marked trails
Lead back to where I’ve been before.
I can’t come here all my life.
Exhausted, aware, she gives up her search for safe places,
And falls into the arms of temporary peace.
-srw
