Your children sleep
your parents are safe
your dog lies at the foot of your bed, softly snoring.
There’s a sound in the night
it’s your voice crying out in protest
but you go back to sleep thinking it was just the rain.
You give what you have,
take nothing more, well, nothing that can be measured by bank accounts
and you flee the life you lived, the life you liked, the life you lied.
You wake up in the daylight,
sun streams on your cheeks, dries tears you have cried,
there is no escape from a prison you create
mind and heart.
Breathe, loved child of the past.
Breathe. And weep. And Breathe.
#for Reticent Mental Property. Images courtesy of the web.