She was not always like this; what she had become,
Once carefree and wild not thoughtless and numb.
She had worked, laughed, loved. Smiled every day.
Went to church on Sunday, took the time to pray.
Not anymore. She tried, but her words came out all wrong.
Slurred and mixed up sounding like a drunken man’s song.
A distance to the window she stumbles but does not fall,
Wanting to see outside once more before they put her behind these walls.
They come for her it is time to say goodnight,
And as they put her to bed darkness replaces the light.
She cannot stop the tears as demons gather in her dreams.
Run, just run. Shhh, do not let them hear you scream.
Deep sweats the darkness edges out her reality. Silent cries.
No more sleep. She stays awake for the next sunrise.
There are no how’s, when’s, or why’s anymore.
Nothing to cling to no hope no after or before.
She cries and cries but she does not know why,
She reaches but cannot grasp emotions before they pass her by.
Flights of memories drift in and out like the waves of the ocean,
Sometimes a raging storm sets her anger in motion.
Her eyes close and the room’s shadows begin to spin,
Her voice awakens. She screams again and again.
Silent. The screams are silent no one to hear,
Then still her heart let the voice quieten her fear.
Hush my child. I have you now I will hold you tight.
Sleep my child I am always with you. I am your light.
Peace be still. A prayer said, a prayer done,
God held her closely, sleep captured light from the Holy One.
© Cynthia Clark