before the monsters come out at night.
lay your head to sleep,
dream only of sweet rain on your face
of dogs in the field
and pebbles in your pocket.
close your eyes and dream-
of a bright blanket of orange,
warming the ground beneath your feet,
the smell of a warm meal calling you home,
midday snacks and wide open arms.
these my memories i give to you.
may you recieve them in your sleep.
wake up, little one,
awake to find a place
where children never tremble
where your memories are never nightmares.
where returned will be your innocence,
returned will be your childhood
and where you will never bow your head for fear of death.
can you take my life?
you should have never seen the things you did.
who has given you a bruise
where there should have been a kiss?
who has given you a gun
where there should have been an embrace?
who made you pull the fucking trigger
when you should have been dreaming?
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